Tainted
by showmaster64x
Summary: Wolfram must decide between his king and his country. His choice ultimately leaves him with neither. Alone and with many obstacles to overcome, he must unravel an ancient mystery before returning home or being reunited with Yuuri. Yuram. Mpreg
1. Prologue

Author's note: This story takes place a couple of years after the end of season two. Some things from season three will make it into the story but by then it will be AU.

Disclaimer: I don't own Kyo Kara Maoh or any of the characters

**Tainted**

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

Prologue

It was a hot day.

The heat of a summer day is really quite annoying for most people. It just seems to get in the way of everything that needs to be done and causes dehydration and, if you have fair skin, can cause some serious sunburn. Exceptionally hot days become mentally draining as well. Only the constant longing for shade possesses a person's thoughts and all other emotions are put aside.

Perhaps it was a blessing that it was a hot day.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

Wolfram stood stiffly in the blazing sun. He could feel sweat trickling down his back and chest, but he stayed where he was. What was about to happen was far more important than his own physical agony.

Wolfram looked up at the large podium in front of him. A young man stood alone on that platform. He looked to be about the same age as Wolfram. _Looked_, but actually was much younger. His handsome face was shadowed with some sort of negative emotion, be it anger, regret, or sadness. It was a look that was foreign to his features which were usually set in a smile. But unlike Wolfram, and unlike any other person at this rally, this young man had black hair and black eyes.

His name was Yuri Shibuya and he was the demon king of Shin Makoku.

Yuri raised his hands and silence fell immediately. He spoke in an emotion filled voice. "Servers of Shin Makoku, or rather… heroes. It is disgraceful that I let such misfortune befall this great county. Yet today, you all have shown your undying loyalty to the foolish king that I am. I still believe that peace in this world is obtainable, but not through fighting and suffering. Throughout this new era, I have been working hard to reach that goal through peaceful negotiation. So it tortures me that we must resort to that fighting.

"I am asking you now to go. Go and make this the last war that this country shall ever fight. It is with a heavy heart that I send you all away, but I am DAMN SURE THAT I WOULD RATHER DIE THAN LET THIS COUNTRY FALL INTO THE HANDS OF BIG SHIMARON AND THE HEARTLESS HUMANS THAT GOVERN HER!" The rest of the speech was unheard over the deafening cheers of thousands of soldiers.

The gates opened and the armies of Shin Makoku marched away, determined to fight and die for their beloved king, their county, and their loved ones left at home.

Wolfram sighed as the congregation cleared around him. He knew it probably wouldn't be long before he joined them on the battlefield.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

It was nightfall by the time Wolfram had made it back to the castle. A few of Wolfram's own troops were on guard tonight and they saluted him as he walked past. The heat of the day had long since gone and Wolfram decided that it was a good night for a bath.

The water was quite refreshing as it washed away the accumulated sweat and grime of the day. He put his head the rest of the way into the water. It felt cool and soothing against his sunburned cheeks. He took some soap in the palm of his hands and proceeded to cleanse his entire body. Once he was finished, he put on his bathrobe and left the bathroom.

He was walking past the north courtyard when he heard the laughter of his daughter. Yuri and Greta were in the dark, playing that ridiculous earth sport that Wolfram could never remember the name of. Greta listened as Yuri gave her pointers on how to hold the bat correctly. Wolfram watched as Yuri then backed away a few feet and pitched the ball softly to his daughter.

"Dad, I'm not that little anymore. You can throw it harder," Greta complained. Yuri complied and sent the next ball from his hand at a slightly faster speed. There was a loud CRACK as the bat and ball made contact and a following CRASH as the ball shattered one of the castle's windows. "SHIT!" swore Greta.

"Greta! A princess and a daughter of mine shouldn't talk like that," Yuri scolded.

Greta giggled. "You sound like Papa Wolf. I'm a teenager now. I'm old enough to swear."

"You most certainly are not!" Yuri said firmly, "Now go find out whose window that was and apologize for breaking it." Greta groaned and walked back into the castle. Yuri sighed and sat down in the grass. Wolfram walked up to him.

"You handled that well," Wolfram complemented.

"I've been trying to handle her more like you do," Yuri answered. He tilted his head back so that he was looking at Wolfram from upside down. Even in the moonlight, Wolfram could see that Yuri was exhausted. He had bags under his eyes that had been there for weeks and his black eyes were cloudy and fatigued. They held depression that no king his age should have felt.

Wolfram sat in the grass next to Yuri. "Yuri, you haven't been sleeping, have you?" Wolfram said. Yuri did not answer right away.

"I keep having nightmares" said Yuri. There was silence for a moment. "When I became King, I promised that I would never resort to war. How has this happened? I feel as though I have betrayed everyone."

Wolfram could tell that Yuri was trying to keep his voice calm, but he could still feel the emotion building behind the words. "Don't blame yourself for this, Yuri. This war couldn't have been avoided. None of this is your fault," Wolfram answered quietly.

Yuri sat up. "It doesn't matter if its my fault. The fact is that it's happening and people are going to die. And I had the power to stop it." Yuri's voice was cracking.

"There's no way that-"

"There was a way! There's always a way! I just didn't look hard enough," Yuri snapped. Wolfram held his gaze for a moment then turned his eyes to the ground. He didn't want to get into an argument with Yuri now. Yuri let out a frustrated sob when Wolfram didn't respond. He pulled his legs up to his chest and put his head in between his knees. They sat there in silence for a while in the still courtyard. A few minutes later, Wolfram hesitantly lifted his hands and put them on Yuri's shoulders. Yuri tensed at the contact but relaxed as Wolfram began to message his tired muscles.

"Is that all you dream about, hennachoko?" Asked Wolfram, carefully throwing out the old nickname.

"There are other things, worse things," answered Yuri, but he didn't elaborate. He straitened back into a normal sitting position and stared at Wolfram. Wolfram realized that his bathrobe had come open and that Yuri was staring at his bare chest. Wolfram blushed. Yuri also realized what he was doing and turned his gaze upward. "Wolfram, how long have we known each other?"

"Five years, hennachoko," replied Wolfram.

"That means we have been engaged for five years," said Yuri thoughtfully. "Five years is a long time."

"Not for a full-blooded mazoku."

"But any of us could die, just like that, at any moment. All it takes is someone's sword, or poison, or maybe just falling off a horse. Five years _is _a long time." He turned to look at Wolfram again. "How come you stopped sleeping in my bed the past couple of months? Have you given up on me?"

"I will never give up on you," Wolfram whispered.

Yuri leaned over and laid his head on Wolfram's shoulder. "Sleep with me tonight. Like you used to," Yuri said against Wolfram's neck. Wolfram shivered when he felt Yuri's hot breath against his skin. It was so different than the cold night air.

"Ok"

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

Wolfram slid into bed next to Yuri, enjoying the feeling of the crisp sheets against his skin. He turned on his side and was surprised when he felt Yuri come up behind him and wrap his arms around his waist. He nuzzled Wolfram's neck and Wolfram stiffened. Yuri had never before been so intimate with him. Yuri placed a few sloppy kisses on Wolfram's shoulder and breathed softly in his ear.

"Marry me, Wolfram."

Those words. It had taken him five years to say those words. But if Yuri knew the truth, thought Wolfram, he would not be saying them now.


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: I would like to make it clear that I normally try to avoid OCs but there are times when they are necessary. Please don't let any of my OCs scare you away. I promise that they will have small parts in the story and they will not be paired up with any of the real characters.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Chapter 1

_Flashback – 3 months ago_

"Your Excellency, we have arrived at the harbor." The carriage driver said, opening the door. "Shall the soldiers and I escort you to the ship?"

"No, that will not be necessary," Wolfram answered, stepping down from the carriage. The driver seemed crestfallen when Wolfram refused to accept his extended hand as an aid. He climbed back into his seat and picked up the reins.

"We will see you in two weeks, Your Excellency."

The ship was a large, private vessel called the _Rov Eh Cou_. She looked brand new, but was in fact older than Wolfram. This was because the ship was only utilized for short trips to Shin Makoku. Otherwise, it sat unused.

The ship was owned by a woman named Mariette Kaliope. She was the wife of Jean Kaliope, easily one of the richest traders in Shin Makoku. However, it was well known that their marriage had been arranged and that they absolutely hated one another. As a result, they lived separately, each with their own estates as far as possible from each other. It also happened to be that this woman was Wolfram's godmother.

In Shin Makoku politics, godparents meant almost nothing. It was just an excuse to tac on another title to your name and it was more like an endorsement than anything else. And in the case of royalty, it was common for children to have numerous sets of godparents, all just wanting to steal a bit of fame and not even bothering to see the child at all. This, however, was not the case with Wolfram.

When Wolfram had been approaching sixty years of age, a letter had arrived asking him to visit the home of his godmother. Being prince at the time, he could have easily refused, but Gwendal had insisted that he go, saying that if he gained her favor, he could possibly inherit her land.

Pff….Gwendal. Always wanting what's best for the state.

So Wolfram had gone, about once every few years, to the Kaliope estate which was located on her private island. It was there that he learned that Lady Kaliope was not your average noble woman.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

Wolfram entered onto the topmost deck of the ship. He looked around and found Lady Kaliope standing with her arms on the railing of the ship and a glass of fine wine resting in one of her hands.

"I see you've made it," She said, not bothering to turn around. Her voice was smooth and calm, but at the same time made the hairs on the back of Wolfram's neck prickle. She swirled the wine around in the glass and brought it up to her lips. "Come with me below deck, there are things that I wish to discuss with you."

Wolfram followed her down the staircase, feeling the ship lurch beneath him and the wave of nausea that came with it. They entered a comfortable cabin with a few arm chairs and shelves of books. Lady Kaliope sat down gracefully and crossed her legs. She stared at him with her hard, grey eyes.

"You've certainly grown into a fine young man, my godson. His majesty sure is lucky to have such an exceptional fiancée," She commented. Wolfram said nothing, waiting for her to get to the point. He sat stiffly in his chair. Lady Kaliope held a sort of uncomfortable atmosphere that always kept him on edge. She was an older woman, but not exactly old enough to be called old. She was perhaps only a decade older than his mother. She was beautiful, but in a strange, dangerous way that any normal man would pass on.

"Listen," She said, becoming serious. "As of now, I have quite a few guests at my house." No surprises there, thought Wolfram. It seemed that she was always entertaining guests or having some kind of gathering. "And some of them are quite eager to meet you. They want me to introduce you to them."

Wolfram raised an eyebrow. Why now? All the other times he visited he was forbidden to speak to any of her guests at all, save for this one time when she made him serve all of them drinks in a skin-tight costume. He'd learned some things that night.

The ship rocked again and Wolfram brought his hand up to his mouth. "I am not in the mood to meet any prissy dignitaries tonight. Please leave me out of your little party." He answered coldly.

She seemed a bit taken aback by his rude tone. Her eyes flashed angrily.

"You're an intelligent boy, Wolfram, so I am going to let you in on a few things. You know, so you wont be drawing any wrong conclusions." Her lips curled into a twisted smile.

"I am a member of STOPPE. I wont tell you all of what it means, but the first letter stands for 'Secret'. We of STOPPE have a common goal: To make money. That's it. And we have been very successful at it."

"So the people at your house are members too? And what does STOPPE want with me?" Wolfram wondered aloud.

"Of that, I am not sure."

"And if I refuse?" questioned Wolfram.

Lady Kaliope laughed. It was a chilling sound. "Besides making money, STOPPE is also good at other things, namely getting rid of obstacles that stand in our way." She refilled her glass. "And you'd be surprised at how much that Maou is a thorn in our side."

Wolfram narrowed his eyes. "So you're saying that if I don't cooperate, you'll kill Yuri?"

Her smile became even more twisted. "Let's just say that it's in your best interests to do whatever we ask of you."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Upon arriving at the mansion, Wolfram was led immediately into one of lady Kaliope's "forbidden" rooms. The room was enormous. Wolfram could tell from the sounds of his footsteps echoing. It was pitch black. He felt Lady Kaliope put her hand on his shoulder and push him down some stairs.

When he reached the bottom, Wolfram stopped and looked upward. Immediately lanterns were lit all around the dark chamber and Wolfram realized that he and Lady Kaliope were standing in the center of some sort of circular stage. Around them were numerous private boxes that one would see in a theatre. There were shadows of people in each of them. It was impossible to make out any faces in the dim light.

Suddenly a voice boomed overhead, "Lady Mariette Kaliope. For what purpose have you gathered us here today? You understand that it is against policy to meet more than once in a six month period." The voice was male and deep. It echoed around the room, making it extremely difficult for Wolfram to pinpoint which box it came from.

"I greatly apologize for my…abruptness, but I do believe that this boy may be able to help us with one of our more pressing issues." Lady Kaliope answered. Mutterings in low voices broke out all around.

Finally the same voice as before spoke again "I assume the issue you are referring to is the one concerning the countries of Shin Makoku and Big Shimaraon. And you think that he has what it takes to do the job we have in mind?"

"I do," Lady Kaliope replied.

"Very well. Septa?"

A woman in one of the other boxes spoke briefly with someone seated farther back in the box, then addressed the room. "Our client has no objections with letting the boy do the task."

"Excellent," the male voice said again. "Let's start a war."

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

.

Sorry this one's kinda short. Please review


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: I never imagined that posting this thing on the internet would give me the motivation to actually continue writing it. Anyway, here's the third chapter for my wonderful reviewers and the many people who have looked at this story but did not review (hey I used to do it too). To those people I would like to say DON'T BE SHY!

Also, I took many liberties with Big Shimaron's royal families. I just love Lanzhil

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

Chapter 2

Wolfram stared blankly out the carriage window as they continued on the path. Blurs of green swept in and out of his vision as the trees rushed by. Wolfram was too deep in thought to follow them with his eyes. The events of the past few days were unreal, as though he was watching someone's nightmare. There was no way that this was happening.

He shivered at the thought of the job he had been forced to take on. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if he would actually be able to go through with it. He would be drowning in guilt and shame for the rest of his long life.

"The wimp always manages to get into trouble…even when he doesn't know it," Wolfram muttered to himself. An understatement. This was much more serious. There was no way out of the situation no matter how Wolfram looked at it. STOPPE had made things clear. They had people inside the castle that could get to Yuri minutes after receiving the order.

Of course there was always the chance that they were bluffing. Wolfram trusted all his own men completely. He was sure Conrad and Gwendal did as well. However, because so many people worked at the castle, they couldn't know the personal life of every single individual. Wolfram didn't know if he wanted to chance it. Yuri's life was on the line after all.

The carriage bounced and jostled underneath him, taking him further and further into the heart of Big Shimaron.

After a few more hours, the carriage finally came rolling to a halt in front of a small building just outside one of Big Shimaron's larger cities. It was still quite early in the day, but already the sun was beating down upon the carriage, making it hot to the touch. Wolfram stepped down, happy to stretch his legs. It had been a long journey so far. He'd traveled by boat, horseback, and carriage all in a span of five days. It was all perfectly planned out. Wolfram would even be back in Shin Makoku before his "visit" to the Kaliope estate was over. No one would suspect a thing.

Two human men emerged from the building and escorted Wolfram inside. Thick and muscular, they could have been soldiers at one point, but now Wolfram knew they were with STOPPE.

"Are you the kid?" the first brute asked. He had brown hair and a moustache. Wolfram scowled. Kid? He was more than twice the age of this human. He nodded anyway.

The other human reentered the room carrying some clothes. His face was slightly better looking than the other. His head was a mess of red curls. "You are to put these on." He said shortly.

Wolfram turned up his nose. "Let's get something straight," Wolfram snarled. "I will not be ordered around by you humans. I am staying in the clothes I have on."

Suddenly, a blade was at his throat. It seemed that a third man had been in the room. How stupid of Wolfram not to notice. "Let's get something straight," the voice behind him said mockingly. "This isn't a game. No matter who we have to threaten, this will get done." Wolfram was released. The third man walked into Wolfram's line of sight. His face was covered by a mask. "Now be a good boy and put those clothes on."

Wolfram snatched up the garments and made for the door. Red-hair held out his arm. "Where do you think you're going? You can change right here, blondie," he snickered.

Wolfram glared at him with all the hate he could muster and quickly stripped himself. He could feel their gazes on him. How humiliating. When he finished putting on the expensive looking clothes he stood up and the brown haired man whistled

"He looks like a courtesan to me" the one with red hair said.

"Then we did a good job," Masked man replied. He looked out the window. "We should get moving. The Duke is expecting us this afternoon."

"Us?" questioned Wolfram. "I thought I was doing this alone."

"You are." Masked man said. "We will be your escort. It has to at least _look _like you come from a noble family of Small Shimaron. Even if it's only a disguise."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

Wolfram sat up in the carriage as the castle finally came into view. It was quite extravagant for a duke, Wolfram mused, but then again this wasn't just any duke. This was the brother of the king of Big Shimaron. The younger brother of Belal.

From what Wolfram had learned upon studying the royal family of Big Shimaron, he knew that Belal and his younger brother, Frederick, were very close. Twenty years ago, they had worked together to overthrow the former king of Big Shimaron and secure the position for themselves. Belal, being the elder, took the throne and Frederick was quite content to let him have it, preferring to take on the title of "duke" and have less responsibilities. As a result, Belal trusted Frederick completely and Frederick was perhaps the only person alive that Belal held deeper feelings for.

It seemed to take the carriage hours to ride along the endless cobblestone road up to the palace gates. They were admitted without a fuss and passed into the castle grounds. An assembly of guards stood ready to great them. The carriage door was opened and Wolfram stepped out into the glaring sunlight.

"Welcome," announced one of the soldiers, stooping into a bow. "The Duke has been eagerly anticipating your arrival. Please allow me to show you to your quarters." He motioned for a few of his subordinates to begin unloading Wolfram's luggage. Of course Wolfram wasn't planning on staying for more than a day or two, but he had to make them think he would be staying for months.

Wolfram followed the man into the castle, glancing back at his carriage that was now being led to the stables.

He was on his own now.

They walked through an enormous garden that held flowers in every color visible to the eye. Wolfram stared in wonder as his eyes took in the incredible sight. Flowers sat on the sills of the stained glass windows. They crept up the walls, woven into the ivy. They even floated in the ponds and fountains while the water swirled gently around them.

"Amazing," breathed Wolfram.

The guard smiled. "Yes, the gardens here are quite beautiful. The duchess has a bit of an obsession with flowers. She gets them imported from all over the world," he said.

Wolfram knelt to smell the fragrance of a little yellow flower he was familiar with.

"Beautiful Wolfram," a female voice called. Wolfram jumped, thinking that someone had discovered him, but then remembering that it was the name of the flower. He looked up to see a woman approaching him with a few attendants behind her. Wolfram assumed that she must be the Duchess.

"They're called Beautiful Wolframs," she told him. "They're named after a former prince of Shin Makoku."

Wolfram stood up. "Your gardens are very pretty," he said.

The Duchess smiled. "You must be the new one. I'd heard that you were a distant cousin of Saralegui but I didn't realize how attractive you would be," she remarked, blushing a bit. She took a step closer. "Perhaps when my husband is finished with you, you can come to my bedchambers for a while."

"Of course," replied Wolfram without hesitation. _Hell no_.

With that, the Duchess and her attendants left and Wolfram was led the rest of the way to his room.

"You will be joining the Duke and his family for dinner shortly."

"Dinner?" asked Wolfram. And here he had been thinking that he had been invited to this castle for only one purpose.

"Duke Frederick does not keep a harem at his castle. He prefers to treat his concubines like guests." The guard held up a hand when Wolfram opened his mouth. "Do not ask me why. It's just the way he does things." The soldier began to let himself out the door. "If you need anything in the meantime, do not hesitate to ask." He shut the door softly.

Wolfram sighed. He had not planned on attending dinner. This would leave him much less time to prepare. He wanted to be gone from this place as soon as possible.

Wolfram walked over to the bed and inspected it. There were two mattresses. One set on top of another. He slid his hand into his boot slowly and extracted a small dagger. It was a beautiful little thing, specially crafted and very expensive. It had been a gift from Gwendal on his 40th birthday. Gwendal had said to use it only to protect himself. Wolfram ran his finger lightly over the blade. Gwendal would be ashamed if he knew the use it would soon be put to.

Wolfram carefully tucked the dagger in between the two mattresses.


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry for the false alarm last time. I had to resubmit chapter 2. Pain in the ass. I realized that I should probably spend more time editing my chapters because the last one had so many mistakes in it. Anyway, there are a couple of warnings for this chapter. First off, this chapter contains some Wolfram/oc. Don't shoot me yet! I promise it doesn't last. You'll see why when you get to the end. Secondly, SEXUAL CONTENT.

AND hopefully by the end of this chapter the summary will finally make sense to you.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Chapter 3

He was led down the corridor by two female servants. Wolfram could feel the human magic all around him. He could not see it but he recognized the sickening feeling that a mazoku feels when hoseki is nearby. His limbs seemed heavier, his head was throbbing, and his mind was far from functioning at full capacity. The dining hall was not far from his room, yet it felt as though he had walked miles. As much as he felt like collapsing, he knew he must not appear like anything was wrong. It was proving to be much more difficult than he originally thought.

Everyone was already seated at the large rectangular table, waiting for Wolfram. 'Everyone' was four humans. Wolfram gazed at each of them in turn as he took his seat. At one end of the table sat a middle aged woman with dark brown hair. The Duchess. Wolfram had already met her in the gardens.

Sitting across from Wolfram were what he assumed must be her children. The boy looked to be around eighteen, with his light brown waves hanging in his face. His expression was, in Wolfram's opinion, the epitome of apathy. The girl beside him looked identical to her brother, only perhaps a couple years younger.

The Duke himself sat at the head of the table. He wasn't that bad looking…for a human. Much to Wolfram's surprise he shared hardly any physical traits with Belal. He was taller and his facial features were much gentler. His eyes held no crazy lust for power like his older brother's. They did, however, hold a different kind of lust.

After the proper greetings, Frederick introduced his wife, the Duchess, as "Isabella", his son as "Lanzhil", and his daughter as "Victoria".

The first course was served almost immediately, and there was silence for a few moments as everyone chose to pick at their food instead of indulge in awkward conversation. Wolfram really did not feel hungry in the slightest. Even the smell of the food was making him feel more nauseous than he already was.

Isabella was the first to break the ice. She dabbed delicately at her lips with napkin and turned her eyes to Wolfram.

"I trust that you are settling in well. We hope to make things comfortable here at our castle for you." Victoria glared suddenly at her mother.

"Well of course he's comfortable!" She leaned over the table, showing her cleavage. "We always give father's little 'guests' the best service," she said suggestively. To her left, Lanzhil threw her a look of pure disgust.

"Careful, sister. Don't think that men find you more appealing with your chest dipped in sauce," he commented coldly. Victoria looked down and realized that her breasts were planted in her plate. She huffed angrily and attempted to clean herself up.

"You'll have to excuse my brother's rudeness. He's just upset because he hasn't given his _sword_ enough attention as of late." she snapped. Lanzhil ignored her and turned to his father instead.

"How did your meeting with Uncle go today, father?" he asked.

Duke Frederick set down his fork and contemplated the question. "It went as well as could be expected. Belal is pushing to invade Shin Makoku, but I managed to dissuade him for now," he said evenly. Lanzhil scowled.

"But why, father? Don't you want to rid the world of the mazoku?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course I want the mazoku dead." Frederick said. "I only wish that my brother listen to reason. The time is simply not right for an attack."

"Why?" Lanzil demanded, "Because of their pathetic maou?" Frederick's eyes darkened. "Or perhaps that traitor, Weller? Why should we be afraid of them? They are nothing."

"That's enough!" Frederick barked, "More than once they could have slain your uncle. They are not to be underestimated."

Lanzhil looked like he wasn't done arguing, but Frederick wouldn't hear it. "You shall not talk anymore of matters that you don't understand." he finished. Lanzhil's eyes flashed angrily but he mumbled an apology and went back to eating.

So the rumors were true, thought Wolfram. Belal really was preparing for war. Wolfram's heart sank, the entirety of STOPPE's plan finally revealing itself to him. It made him sick. Unfortunately, they had long since passed the point of no return.

For the remaining part of the meal, there was mostly silence with a bit of useless chatter between courses. Soon enough, Frederick had dismissed everyone but Wolfram. Wolfram folded his hands in his lap to keep them from fidgeting. He knew what was coming. Frederick refilled Wolfram's glass.

"Drink," he ordered. "You look like you need it." Wolfram reluctantly obeyed. Frederick stared at him with his copper eyes. "You didn't have much to say. Was the food not to your liking?"

"Everything was too spicy." Wolfram complained. Frederick laughed.

"All human dishes are on the spicy side. Are things not the same in Small Shimaron?" Frederick inquired. The color drained from Wolfram's face.

"Well at least you can actually eat the food in Small Shimaron." Wolfram tried to cover up. Frederick chuckled. He stood up and walked over to Wolfram. Wolfram got up as well. Frederick extended his hand and cupped Wolfram's chin. Wolfram resisted the urge to pull away.

"What did you think of my children?" the Duke asked him.

"Charming," Wolfram lied. Frederick smirked and tilted Wolfram's head up.

"That's what they all say." He ran his thumb over Wolfram's bottom lip. "You were supposed to be a present for them, but now I'm not sure that they deserve something as gorgeous as you." He leaned in and touched their lips together. Wolfram stood still, allowing the human's tongue to invade his mouth. It wasn't so bad. ..not really bad at all. Wolfram's eyes closed. Now if it were Yuri's tongue, Yuri's hands sliding down his arms and sides….

Wolfram held back a moan. God, he hadn't been kissed like this in years. He'd forgotten what it was like to feel so…good. As he began to return the kiss, he felt Frederick's hands glide lower to grope his ass. Wolfram's eyes snapped open. He found that his fingers had somehow become entwined in Frederick's long hair. How had he managed to get so distracted?

Frederick pushed him back a few steps so that the edge of the table was digging into the small of Wolfram's back. The Duke began trailing his tongue down Wolfram's pale throat, slowly bending Wolfram back over the table. Waves of arousal washed over him and he could feel himself getting hard.

_No_, thought Wolfram, desperately trying to clear his head. _Think about what you came here to do. You need to bring him to the bedroom._

"My Lord," said Wolfram, turning his head away slightly. "Do you think we could continue this-ah-elsewhere? Please, this is a bit-ahah-uncomfortable for me." Frederick paused in his assault on Wolfram's neck.

"I suppose you're right. If we were to stay here, things would certainly get a little…" he leaned forward, deliberately pressing his knee into Wolfram's crotch. Wolfram bit his lip before a whimper could escape. "…messy." His voice was low and seductive. Wolfram shivered.

Suddenly, Wolfram was hoisted into the air and carried out of the dining room and down the hall. They reached the door to Wolfram's quarters and a few servants let them in. Frederick dismissed them afterward. Wolfram was set down on the bed and soon had Frederick's full weight pressing on him, sinking him into the mattress. Wolfram's breath hitched as their hips grinded together, the friction of another body causing his erection to ache. They were both panting now, their breathing becoming the only sound in the room. Frederick's hands began removing Wolfram's clothes one piece at a time.

If Wolfram were to stick to his original plan, this would be as far as he would go with the Duke. Any more time with him at this point was, in fact, completely unnecessary and could even put the mission in jeopardy. Nevertheless, Wolfram did absolutely nothing to stop Frederick from continuing. It was shameful, it was pathetic, one of the voices in his head was telling him, but Wolfram was too busy listening to the other voice in his mind. This was the one that often chanted the wrong thing. The one that always told the cold, hard truth.

He'd be lying if he said he didn't want this.

Wolfram watched hungrily as Frederick began undressing himself as well, revealing a finely-toned body. Wolfram shuddered, cursing himself for his sinful desires. Tonight, his five years of pent-up lust would finally be released.

Frederick returned to bed, sliding his naked chest over Wolfram and claiming his lips once again. Wolfram felt his hands roam lower and lower until they rested upon Wolfram's quivering thighs, gently massaging the soft, white skin. He took Wolfram's erection in his hands and gave it a few, quick strokes.

Wolfram was ashamed of the noises that came out of his mouth as he was brought to his climax. It came much too soon. He tried to hold it back as long as possible but in the end he just let the incredible feeling overwhelm him.

"It seems as though you have been denying your body of its certain needs, my blond beauty." Wolfram did not answer, still riding the waves of ecstasy. "How long has it been since a man has touched you like this?"

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Wolfram found that his back could only arch so far while he writhed on the bed and was fucked repeatedly by Belal's brother. How low he had fallen, moaning like a whore for a complete stranger. A human, no less. It was pitiful.

When they were finally spent, collapsed on top of each other, Wolfram decided that it was now or never. He felt the tears well up in his eyes, not because he actually cared for the man between his legs but for the fact that he had no choice.

"Why are you crying," Frederick asked softly.

"I'm sorry," whispered Wolfram "…Belive me, I didn't want for this to happen but…I love Yuri more than anything."

"What?" It was all Frederick was able to say before Wolfram thrust his dagger into his chest. Frederick stared mutely at the knife protruding from his body. He pulled it out and threw it behind him, before laying his head back down on Wolfram. His blood was flowing over both their bodies and onto the sheets underneath them.

"Kid," the Duke rasped, "have you ever killed a man before?" Wolfram said nothing, his body shaking with sobs. Frederick changed the subject, "Love, you say?" he asked, blood trickling from his mouth. "If a man kills for love, he shall have no regrets." With his last remaining strength, he lifted a hand to caress Wolfram's tearstained cheek. "If a man dies for love…he dies…a fool."

The assassin cradled his victim's body long after the life had left it. It wasn't until the first rays of sunlight had reached the window when Wolfram finally sat up.

Humans were evil, Wolfram decided. Mazoku were evil. Everyone was evil, selfish, or corrupted in some way or another.

Calling upon an element is nearly impossible in human territory, but Wolfram's fury could not be contained. The spark produced from his hand was enough to set the bed on fire. Wolfram watched as the flame spread to the curtains, the walls, the rugs, consuming everything in its path.

It was some time before anyone noticed that the entire west part of the castle was burning. It was complete chaos after that. No one glanced a second time at Wolfram as he left the grounds.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Wow this one leaves my other chapters in the dust.

I didn't make it a full-fledged lemon because I sorta chickened out. Hope you still liked it


	5. Chapter 4

A/N: This chapter has a lot of Yuri in it. Also, the flashback ends a little way in, meaning that it goes back to where the prologue left off. I just thought I'd remind you because it kept confusing me.

I haven't seen a good map of Shin Makoku's world so I made some stuff up.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Chapter 4

Wolfram leaned over the edge of the boat back to Shin Makoku, watching the waves push them up and down. The wind came from behind, blowing his blond hair into his eyes. His mind was strangely blank, as though it was trying not to relive the events of the night before. However, one thought kept occurring to him: he had forgotten his dagger.

Well, it was too late to go back now.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Wolfram stepped off the ship and onto the dock. He dimly noted that it was drizzling, but was too busy battling fatigue and seasickness to do anything about getting wet.

"Welcome back, Your Excellency," greeted his carriage driver. "How was your visit?" He opened the door for Wolfram to get in.

"It was fine," answered Wolfram. He climbed in and sat down. The carriage lurched underneath him. He let the soft rattle of the wheels lull him to sleep.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

That night, he was back in Covenant Castle. Conrad was the first person he saw upon walking through the doors. His smile was the same as ever, but his eyes were dark and contemplative.

"What's wrong, Conrad?" Wolfram asked, even though he already knew.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Wolfram sat outside the Maou's study, listening to the heated voices inside.

"Please, Gwendal, this obviously some huge misunderstanding."

"This is the last time I'm going to say this, Your Majesty. If you do not hand me that document right now I will be forced to draw my sword."

"Stop it, Gwendal! There must be something I can do to avoid this!"

"We all knew this would be happening sooner or later. There is nothing you can do. Accept it!"

"No! I will never sign this." There was a noise of paper being torn and a furious growl from Gwendal.

"Very well. Keep behaving like some naïve child. I do not need your signature." There were the sounds of angry footsteps and Gwendal burst into the hall. He noticed Wolfram. "Hmph! You may see His Majesty now." He huffed and stormed away.

Wolfram entered the room and shut the door. Yuri was bending down, collecting bits of paper. "Hello Wolfram," he said, straightening up and throwing the pieces in the trash bin. "I don't think Gwendal is very happy with me." He sat back in his chair and stared at the ink bottle. No one spoke for a moment. Suddenly, Yuri picked up the little bottle and pitched it across the room. It hit the door and shattered, black splattering everywhere.

"Yuri!" cried Wolfram as Yuri picked up the paperweight next.

"What am I going to do, Wolfram?" Yuri ran his fingers through his black hair, tugging at it hard. "A week ago, a relative of Belal was murdered. His entire castle went up in flames and Belal is blaming us! And Gwendal wants-"

"You don't always have to do what Gwendal says. You are the king of this country." Wolfram interjected, wishing he could leave the room.

"And risk starting a _civil _war? I'm not stupid, Wolfram. I know that Gwendal has more power than me." Yuri slumped in his chair. "Every day that has passed since Big Shimaron's declaration of war has been torture. Every day since then, I have been arguing nonstop with Gwendal, Gunter, and even Conrad. I have run out of options and out of time." Yuri looked up into Wolfram's eyes with the most defeated and helpless expression. The look of a king when he realizes he's powerless.

"Shin Makoku is going to war."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

_End flashback_

"Mary me, Wolf," Yuri said softly again in Wolfram's ear.

"Yuri," Wolfram responded. "Are you sure?" Somehow, it didn't seem real.

"Mmhmm," hummed Yuri sleepily. "We all deserve to be happy." A few seconds later, Yuri was snoring lightly. Wolfram snuggled closer to him, drowning himself in Yuri's scent. Soon he had fallen asleep as well.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

_Ao's hooves pounded the dry earth. Yuri rode across the deserted plain at breakneck speed. He didn't know his destination, only that he was almost there. The horse skidded to a halt in front of a dark forest. Yuri dismounted. Greta was there waiting for him. She was younger, like when he had first met her, and she was dressed in rags._

"_Papa!" she called, "Hurry. You don't want to be late." She ran into the darkness. Yuri followed her, trying his best to keep up. The trees were covered in thorns that came dangerously close to slicing him as he rode by. _

_Yuri broke out of the forest. The familiar rolling hills of Franshire came into view. Yuri remembered this place. It was where Belal had almost had him executed. Wolfram stood on the hill. Yuri and Greta walked up to him. Yuri noticed that Wolfram was wearing the colors of Big Shimaron._

"_Yuri, you came," he threw his arms around Yuri and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. When Yuri took his eyes off of Wolfram he realized that there were tons of people all around them. They were all staring at the top of the hill. A voice rang out._

"_Now announcing the arrival of the new king of Big Shimaron." Wolfram grasped Yuri's hand with tears in his eyes._

"_This is such a wonderful day," he sighed. "I'm so proud." The new king descended the hill and walked over to where Yuri, Wolfram and Greta stood. Yuri's eyes widened. _

_He stood face to face with himself._

Yuri woke suddenly. For a moment, he couldn't remember where he was. Covenant Castle. The floor of the maou's bedroom. Just like every morning. Yuri stood up, his back aching from his fall from the bed sometime during the night. Yuri looked at Wolfram, who was still asleep. His chest was rising and falling slowly, his pink lips open slightly. He remembered what he had asked Wolfram last night and he had no intention of taking back his words. Although he had not quite sorted out his feelings for the blonde, he had already decided that their marriage was necessary, if not for himself, then at least for the country.

After all, who had time for a silly thing like love in the middle of a war?

Yuri rubbed the sleep from his eyes and dragged himself to the baths. It was still quite early in the morning but Yuri was used to it by now. He groaned as he thought of the day ahead. Meetings, meetings, meetings with his studies squeezed in before dinner. It seemed as though every day for the past couple of months had the same schedule. There had hardly been a moment for anything else.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Later that day, Yuri sat with his head in his hands, as frustrated as ever. Maps were strewn across the table with little figurines indicating the positions of their armies. The ten aristocrats sat at the table with him, each one shouting at another. They would argue and argue but nothing ever got done.

"I am aware of the situation, Von Grantz," Von Wincott was saying irritably, "But Big Shimaron is already making a move on Aziza. We can't spare any more troops in Caloria."

"I disagree," argued Gwendal. "Caloria's capitol city is a port city. If Big Shimaron gains control of it, they would have easy access to us via sea-route. If that happens it would spell big trouble for us. Need I remind you, gentlemen, that Big Shimaron far surpasses us in terms of sea power? We are sure to sustain heavy losses if we must turn to a naval war." A few others murmured their agreement. Two more aristocrats proposed their plans as well, only to have then shot down by Gwendal. It was then that Yuri decided to announce his idea.

"Why don't we open up a second front?" said Yuri, looking at the map in front of him.

"We've been over this, Your Majesty," sighed a frustrated Gwendal. "Big Shimaron is too far north and we could never hold out if we attack them during the winter months."

"I'm not talking about there," answered Yuri, putting a finger on the border closest to Shin Makoku. He slowly dragged his finger down the map until it rested on the Big Shimaron's southern border. "I'm talking about here." A couple of aristocrats laughed. Yuri frowned. It was annoying when he wasn't taken seriously.

"I'm sorry, King Yuri," apologized Von Karbelnikoff, "But you want us to trek through the entire country of Suberera, who we are not on the best terms with?"

"Not only that," added Waltorana Von Bielefield, "But across nearly two-thousand miles of lifeless desert?"

"Yes," said Yuri with determination. "It's doable."

"How?" snorted Gwendal, disbelievingly. Yuri turned to him.

"If I lead them across with the Mateki." The room became silent, everyone considering Yuri's bold plan.

"It could work," said Gwendal after a while, "but first we must deal with the situation in Caloria and even though Suberera is in the midst of a civil war, we-"

"You aren't serious, are you?" Von Roshfall objected. "It's too dangerous and we can't sacrifice our king so lightly, not while this kingdom has no heir."

"That is also something I would like to talk about today," said Yuri. "I would like to officially announce my engagement to Wolfram Von Bielefield." So much talking ensued after this statement, they were forced to break for lunch early.

Yuri pulled Waltorana aside as soon as they had exited.

"If you think that I will be giving you my blessings, then you are sorely mistaken." Waltorana said at once. "I don't really like you." Yuri winced.

"Please don't fight me for this." Yuri replied.

"On the other hand, there's a good chance you'll die out there," continued Waltorana as though Yuri had said nothing. "If that were to happen, Wolfram would become king so I guess I can't complain." He began to walk away. Yuri scowled, feeling insulted. Once Waltorana had walked a few steps, he seemed to hesitate. "Take care of him," he added quietly. That was all Yuri needed.

When they reconvened they took a vote.

"Then it is settled," barked Gwendal. "Wolfram will be named Royal Consort and when the time comes we will move forward with His Majesty's plan." After one last bout of argument, nine other voices agreed.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

my Yuri is a bit scheming, isn't he? oh well, its better than a dumb Yuri.

I hate trying to write complicated feelings

Please review. Even if you hate it. The more I get the better the story looks.


	6. Chapter 5

A/N: Omg have you guys seen the most recent kyo kara maoh episodes? They are awesome. I'm sorry to say that Sara/Yuri is starting to become one of my favorite pairings. I really hated him at first but he has grown on me. Nevertheless, it will not be affecting this story in any way. (not yet, at least)

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Chapter 5

CLANG

Steel clashed with steel. Morgif howled in protest as he was swung back and forth furiously, meeting Conrad's sword just before any damage could be done. Yuri panted, sweat dripping off his brow as he pulled back and slashed once more with Morgif. Conrad easily deflected it and used the chance to change to offensive. Yuri was flat on the dirt within seconds.

"I've never seen you this sloppy before, Your Majesty. Is something wrong?" Conrad asked as he helped Yuri to his feet.

"I'm sorry, Conrad. I guess I'm just a little distracted today." Yuri answered. Conrad nodded, as if he understood.

"It must have been a big decision to make." Conrad commented. Yuri wasn't sure if he was referring to his decision to marry Wolfram or his decision to go to the front lines.

"Yes, it was."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Yuri requested a private dinner that night. It was just him, Wolfram, and Greta. It wasn't that anyone else could have attended anyway. Cheri was no doubt on one of her "free love" cruises, Conrad and Gunter were preparing to leave to take care of something in Christ territory, and Gwendal never left his office nowadays.

For the first part of the dinner, Yuri and Wolfram listened to Greta talk about her studies. When they lapsed into silence again, Yuri asked how Wolfram's day had gone.

"It was quite uneventful," Wolfram answered. "The morning I spent in the city, doing a bunch of routine checks on prisons and stuff. It wasn't too bad, although, there was this bitch that was bad-mouthing you. I would have punched her if it hadn't been so damn hot out." Yuri chuckled.

"What was she saying?"

"She said that you were a coward and a fool for ever trusting humans in the first place."

"Isn't that what you say to me?" Yuri asked. Greta laughed and Wolfram blushed.

"Yes, well I say it in a good way," Wolfram said. Yuri joined in the laughing and soon Wolfram was laughing as well.

"Ne ne, Yuri, aren't you gonna tell Wolfram what you did today?" Greta said, clearly hinting that she knew something. Yuri set down his fork and looked at Wolfram.

"I asked you uncle if I could marry you."

"What?" replied Wolfram, looking surprised, "You mean last night…."

"It wasn't a dream, Wolfram. I meant what I said." He gazed into Wolfram's emerald eyes, where the longing was evident. It was quite obvious that Wolfram had believed Yuri's words too good to be true.

"I need to think about it." Wolfram answered after a moment, turning his eyes away. Yuri blinked in surprise, not expecting Wolfram to hesitate. Perhaps he was still in shock. After all, Yuri had finally proposed (in a sincere way), something that no one had any reason to believe he would actually go through with.

"Of course," said Yuri, putting his trademark smile back on his face.

"Well you'd better hurry up," Greta piped in happily, "Because I can't wait to go shopping with Cheri-sama for a beautiful dress for the wedding." She sighed. "Who knows, maybe I will meet my true love during the reception."

"I don't think so." Yuri said, while at the same time Wolfram had stated, "Absolutely not!"

Greta crossed her arms and huffed angrily. "Fathers," she grumbled.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

The following morning Wolfram stood in front of the stables and watched with a sinking expression as his mare, led by one of the stable hands, limped heavily as she walked.

"She was lame when I took her from her stall this morning, Your Excellency." The boy said. Wolfram scowled and wiped a few beads of perspiration from his forehead. Summer was nearing its end, but that was no excuse. The season seemed to be stubbornly tormenting Shin Makoku with weeks of unbearably hot days before yielding to fall. The war had begun in late spring. Already, a season had passed since its start and no progress had been made on either side. To Wolfram, it was troubling. "I can have your old horse ready for you today, Sir."

"No," growled a frustrated Wolfram. "I will not be seen on that old thing. Tack up Conrad's new colt for me."

"But Sir, that colt is hardly broke. He's far too green to entrust Your Excellency's safety to."

"I can handle him," snapped Wolfram, "Now hurry up. I have work to do."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Wolfram and his men stood at the entrance to the city, sweating in their uniforms. The sun was high overhead. It had to be the hottest point of the day. Wolfram pulled at his collar, attempting to get some air to reach his neck. Insects buzzed annoyingly in his ears, rejoicing in the humidity. The horses had all fallen asleep beneath their riders, the heat having drained all of their energy. How much longer would they be waiting?

"I see a carriage, Sir." One of the men called. Wolfram lifted his eyes to the horizon and spotted it.

"That's them." Wolfram said. He and his men urged their horses forward to meet it. A blonde man leaned out the window and smiled at Wolfram.

"Wolfram Von Bielefield. It's good to see you." He exclaimed cheerfully.

"It's nice to see you well, Fanbalen-san. We're here to see you to the castle."

"Excellent. I'm very much looking forward to seeing the palace of the Maou." Fanbalen said, grinning broadly. Wolfram smiled pleasantly, but before he could say anything else he heard a strange whistling noise. He recognized the sound immediately and shoved the merchant back into the carriage. An arrow whizzed by and buried itself in the side of the carriage where Fanbalen's head had been moments before. Wolfram turned around and scanned the area. There! Someone was disappearing into the forest.

"Men!" Wolfram shouted. They came to attention, all of them having realized what just happened. "Get this carriage to the castle safely." Wolfram spurred his horse hard and took off after the 'would be' assassin.

Wolfram tore through the forest, every once in a while catching a glimpse of the hooded person. Tree branches hung low in his path, scraping up his hands and his face as he raced by. They went deeper and deeper into the forest, where sunlight was barely reaching the ground through the thick canopy.

Suddenly, Wolfram's horse skidded to a halt. They had reached the edge of a cliff. The furious rapids of the river were rushing hundreds of feet below them. The cloaked assassin was standing in front of Wolfram, his feet at the edge. Wolfram drew his sword.

"Who are you?" demanded Wolfram. The assassin did not answer. He moved his head slightly, glancing at the raging water below and then back at Wolfram. Wolfram noticed a strange looking emblem on the man's cloak. It looked a bit like a bird. A crow, perhaps? Wolfram took a step closer. The hooded man hesitated for a moment, then turned and leaped off the precipe. "Nooo!" cried Wolfram angrily. He dismounted his horse and ran to the edge. It was no use. The man had disappeared.

Wolfram swore loudly. He felt a few droplets of water land on his head and looked up. Black storm clouds were rolling in fast. Wolfram had been unable to see the sky through the trees so he had no way of knowing that a storm had been approaching. Thunder rumbled in the distance and Wolfram walked back over to his horse. The animal tossed its head and pawed the ground nervously. Being so young, it was easily frightened by things like thunderstorms. Wolfram mounted and reentered the forest where he was faced with an even bigger problem: he was completely lost.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Rain pounded Wolfram from every direction. Trees were bowing under the fierce wind and their branches grabbed at him like hands reaching out. Wolfram was drenched, his hair and uniform plastered to his body. He had long since given up trying to control his mount. The frantic animal plowed through the mud, desperately trying to find the way back home. It was getting darker. Wolfram knew that soon it would be nightfall and he shuddered to think of trying to find his way in the dark AND in the storm.

A flash of lightning nearly blinded him for a moment. The thunder that followed was loud enough to split his eardrums. Wolfram's horse reared suddenly.

SNAP

The leather of the saddle broke and Wolfram was sent flying onto the muddy ground. He watched as the colt, which had not yet developed a sense of loyalty to its master, galloped away into the trees.

"I should have listened to the stable boy," cursed Wolfram.

A few miles (and many wrong turns) later, Wolfram found himself on a path that had finally taken him out of the forest. It had stopped raining now and the starlit sky was clear. Wolfram, recognizing where he was, realized that the closest place was Shinou's temple and that it would be best to spend the night there and head back to Covenant Castle in the morning.

Wolfram dragged his feet all the way to the doors of the shrine. The Great Sage was sitting on the steps, waiting for him, glasses glinting in the moonlight.

"Everyone's been worried about you, Bielefield-kyo. Where have you been?" he asked innocently, staring down at Wolfram's mud-caked body. Wolfram scowled.

"Don't play dumb. You know everything, don't you?"

"You presume too much of my powers."

"How did you know I was coming here, then?" Wolfram said. The Great Sage sighed.

"This temple does have guards, you know. How do you think you got through the gates?"

"Shut up," mumbled Wolfram as he climbed the stairs. He reached the top and swayed a bit. He was exhausted. Murata put an arm around Wolfram's shoulders to steady him as he led him into the building. As they walked, Wolfram felt the Sage's arm slide lower, lower, until- "Watch it, Sage, unless you want to be fried," barked Wolfram as they reached one of the spare rooms.

"Do you want me to stay and help you undress?" Murata asked. He was answered with a door slamming in his face.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Murata smiled and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he walked down the corridor to his own bedroom. Inside he was met with a presence.

"I saw that." Shinou's voice purred in Murata's ear. Murata shook him off and went over to his bed. "So did you notice?" Shinou said as Murata began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Notice what? About Wolfram? Of course." Murata replied.

"Will you tell him?" Shinou asked. Murata took off his glasses and set them on the nightstand.

"I'm sure he will figure it out soon enough." Murata yawned and got into bed. "But perhaps I will inform him if I have time in the morning." Shinou stared at the tent between the sage's legs.

"Would you like me to help you with that?" Shinou said, smiling devilishly. Murata snorted.

"If you were alive, then I might just take you up on that offer." He replied. Shinou sighed, becoming serious.

"Reincarnation is a hellish road. You know better than anyone." Shinou said quietly. Murata's fingers clenched the sheets.

"Still… It's not too late, you know." He whispered, gazing up into Shinou's eyes. Shinou did not answer. Using a small amount of maryoku, he extinguished the remaining candles, letting everything fall into darkness.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

.

Well everything up until this point has been pre-written. That means that I will actually have to start thinking again and it could be a while before my next update.

Btw, I love when people add me to their alerts and stuff but I love reviews even more. Please, I don't care if its only two words long and says "this sucks" or "this is great"


	7. Chapter 6

A/N: thanks to a special reviewer I decided to try and fix up this thing. Go on and take a read. It may fill the boredom until all the good kkm authors get off their asses and keep writing.

Things are gonna get pretty serious in these next few chaps

Disclaimer: don't own it

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Chapter 6

Wolfram entered the shrine's breakfast room late the next morning to find Murata seated alone at the table. Food had already been served, apparently, as it lay partially eaten and getting cold. Wolfram did not wait to be invited in. He simply sat down and pulled one of the plates toward him. As he ate, he noticed that Murata watching him closely.

"It's rude to stare," commented Wolfram after a few minutes of awkward silence. Murata merely raised his eyebrows.

"I'm curious," the sage began, "Do you normally stuff your face like so or is the reason because you are now eating for two?" Wolfram choked on his bacon.

"_What?_"

"I heard that you were ill this morning." Murata continued. "How long has that been going on?" Wolfram narrowed his eyes.

"What are you implying?"

"That you're pregnant."

"Ha! And T-zou loves manju ." Wolfram said and continued eating. Murata chuckled.

"Although it is a bit harder for male mazoku to conceive than females, I imagine that a fine, well-bred specimen such as yourself would have no trouble at all."

"I assure you, my good sage, that you are out of your mind."

"Perhaps, but tell me, how long has it been? Three months? You must have noticed some changes by now." Murata said, grinning slightly. Wolfram didn't respond. "But go on and keep yourself in denial if it makes you feel better." Wolfram clenched his spork.

"Ridiculous. How could I be pregnant?" He huffed. The sage laughed and leaned closer over the table.

"I find myself wondering the same thing knowing that Shibuya is still afraid of touching you." Wolfram stood up suddenly.

"How dare you accuse me of such a thing! I would never betray Yuuri like that!" Snarled Wolfram. It was time to end this conversation, lest they drift into even more dangerous waters. The more time one spends telling a lie, the more chances he has to screw up. Wolfram threw his napkin onto the table and walked over to the door.

"I'll be returning to the castle now." Said Wolfram.

"Then I will have a carriage prepared for you." Came Murata's voice. Wolfram stiffened for a moment but then his shoulders slumped slightly as he gave in.

"Fine."

"And Von Bielefield-kyo," Wolfram paused with his fingers on the door handle. "Do not worry. I shall keep your secret." Wolfram let himself out the door without saying anything. But he didn't need to. Murata got the message.

Wolfram walked down the hall with his fists clenched at his sides.

"Damn that sage." Wolfram muttered. "How much has he figured out? How is it that he is able to read me so easily?" Wolfram had known for a while now that he was pregnant but he had been thinking that he was doing a rather good job of hiding it. Not even Conrad had noticed anything yet.

He was suddenly aware of how loudly his footsteps were echoing and how the particular corridor that he had come across was completely silent. Wolfram wrapped his arms around himself and leaned against the wall. Why was lying like this becoming so hard for him? He couldn't keep this up forever, could he? Wolfram brought his hand up to his furrowed brow and attempted to smooth the wrinkles between his eyebrows.

"You can handle this." He whispered to himself. "You can fix this."

"Can you?" questioned a soft voice. Wolfram looked up sharply and gazed up and down the hall.

"Who is there?" he called.

"Who else?" the voice said from behind him. Wolfram spun around and found himself face to face with an impossibly handsome and majestic looking blond man.

"Sh-Shinou heika." Wolfram fell to his knees. "I thought you were…. Why are you…?" Shinou chuckled.

"Dead? I still am." He bent over so that he was level with Wolfram. "Are you surprised to see me?" Wolfram's eyes widened for a moment before he turned them away.

"No. You've come to haunt me, haven't you? Or punish me?"

"Now why would I need to do that?" Shinou laughed, but his eyes remained serious, as if he was expecting a confession. Wolfram bowed his head.

"Because I have done something unforgivable to Shin Makoku." Wolfram admitted in a horrified voice. Shinou cocked his head slightly.

"That remains yet to be seen. You made a _choice_. You did what you thought best at the time knowing that there would be major consequences either way. Who is to say if you were right?"

"But-"

"Besides," Shinou continued, "The one you should be seeking forgiveness from is not me but the current king of Shin Makoku."

"Yuuri." Wolfram closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "Once he finds out about what I did or about the fact that I am carrying another man's child, there is no way that he will want to marry me." Shinou did not respond. He put a hand on Wolfram's shoulder and guided him to his feet. Wolfram felt the hand slide up his neck and force his head up so that he was looking into Shinou's deep blue eyes.

"Do you love him?"

"Yes." Breathed Wolfram. Shinou smiled.

"Then no matter what you may be forced to endure in the future, you will find a way to be with him." Shinou answered. A strange calmness came over Wolfram and his eyes became too heavy to hold and his limbs didn't seem to want to obey him any longer. Blackness took over his vision and his body went limp in Shinou's arms.

Shinou stood there for a moment. "You know, that last part applies to us as well." He remarked and turned around to face Murata, who stood at the end of the hall. The sage shifted so that his glasses reflected the light.

"Don't do it, Shinou. I know what you are thinking. There are other ways."

"None as easy as this."

"Stop. There needn't be another person in this world with power equal to Shibuya's and a mind that we cannot fully control."

"You worry too much"

"You are being selfish, Shinou." Warned Murata.

"AND YOU ARE NEVER SELFISH ENOUGH!" Cried Shinou. "Do you care for me or NOT? What is more precious to you, me or this world that I have built for you?" Murata did not answer. His heart was beating rapidly. Could it be from…excitement? He watched Shinou look carefully at the Bielefield boy.

"I promise that we will meet again, Daikenja."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

When Wolfram woke, it was to the noise of a busy city. He sat up in the carriage and looked out the small window. They were already on the road that would lead them to the castle. He must have been asleep for the entire ride.

They reached the castle grounds and pulled up to the front doors. At the top of the steps stood Yuuri, looking quite worn from standing in the baking sun in his black uniform. As Wolfram stepped out of the carriage, Yuuri descended the stairs. He noticed the dark circles under the king's eyes.

Yuuri pulled his fiancée into a fierce embrace.

"I was so worried about you, Wolfram. Fanbalen-san told us what happened and we were looking for you all night. We thought that something horrible might have happened to you." Yuuri let go of Wolfram and stepped back. Wolfram blushed and turned away so that Yuuri would not see.

"I can take care of myself, you know." He grumbled. Yuuri smiled faintly.

"I know." They stood there in the hot summer air for a moment without speaking, listening to the marching soldiers in the courtyard. Yuuri sighed. "Why don't we get out of the sun?" He began walking back up the steps. "You should probably go see Greta. She's been worried too." Yuuri stopped when he realized that Wolfram wasn't following him. He looked back. "Coming?"

Wolfram fell into step beside his king as they walked back into the castle together.

"Yuuri?"

"hm?"

"Let's get married."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o


	8. Chapter 7

A/N: God, will someone please just stop me from posting this rag? That's how I normally feel but this chapter actually turned out decent. After like two years without touching this fic, maybe I can actually make it into something readable.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Chapter 7

Gwendal did not like people in his office.

It had always been this way, ever since he had started working in this room. He liked to think of it as his "private space" where he could have his peace and quiet, work efficiently, and, if he was lucky, get some knitting done. Unfortunately, his job required many visitors a day.

Gunter was first. He had drawn up the guest list for the royal wedding that would be taking place in a few weeks. It was…extensive. Gwendal wondered if there would even be enough room in the castle to house so many people. He found himself glad that he had put Gunter in charge of the whole wedding affair. It certainly seemed like a lot of hard work.

Yozak was next. He was leaving overseas for an assignment and came to complain to Gwendal that he didn't have sufficient funds. He left empty-handed. Gwendal, after all, wasn't known for his generosity.

Anissina came later with some monstrous contraption. Gwendal had his guards throw her out immediately. Honestly, why was it that he still kept a woman like her in the castle when she was a threat to humanity?

Gwendal's patience was already short when Wolfram entered the room.

"And?" demanded Gwendal. Wolfram, recognizing that his older brother was in a sour mood, stood up a little straighter.

"During my investigation of the northern providences, my unit and I found no new reports of suspicious people in black cloaks, nor any unregistered houryoku users. Even those in the human villages are unaware of this terrorist group."

"I see." Said Gwendal, deflating a bit. They had been trying to pick up the trail of the assassin sent to kill Fanbalen, but so far learned almost nothing. Gwendal looked back at his younger brother. His skin and uniform were dirty and he seemed exhausted and sore. Gwendal was almost sorry for what he was about to say.

"In two days you will leave and search for anyone with any connection to these "White Crows" in the cities west of Bielefield."

"Understood." Wolfram answered. Gwendal knew that he could have complained that he had already been sent on three consecutive missions. He could have argued that Yozak, or someone better trained in espionage take on this assignment. But Wolfram said nothing as he left the room. He was a soldier. They were at war.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Gwendal was almost ready to retire to his knitting when his door was knocked on for the fifth time that day.

"Enter." He said. In stepped a young man wearing Wolfram's colors. Gwendal recognized him immediately. His name was Gordon and he was Wolfram's lieutenant. Gwendal sighed. "What do you want? Wolfram has already given his report."

"I wanted to talk to you about something else." His voice made Gwendal look up from the document that he was reading. Not many dared to use such a hostile tone with him.

"I'm listening." Replied Gwendal slowly.

"It's about my captain, Wolfram Von Bielefied. I think that it is time that you relieve him of active duty."

Gwendal blinked, wondering if he heard the man right. Was he that stupid? Did he really think that Gwendal would relegate his own brother?

"If you can submit sufficient evidence that he has in some way abused his power or compromised the missions, then your request may be considered." Gwendal replied almost lazily.

"You misunderstand me." The lieutenant said back. "The problem lies not with my captain, but with you and your complete disregard for his health."

"I am aware that your workload has been somewhat overwhelming lately but these things are important. Wolfram is strong. He can take it." Gwendal said. Gordon walked over to the desk and reached into his jacket. He pulled out a sheet of paper and slammed it down on Gwendal's desk.

"These are the signatures of the rest of Von Bielefied's special operations team. We all agree that continued field assignments may jeopardize the life of his unborn child." Now Gwendal was certain he must have heard wrong.

"What did you say?" Gwendal said, shocked. Gordon looked taken aback by Gwendal's expression.

"I-It became apparent ever since we first left the capital, Sir. We assumed that you knew." Gwendal was silent for a moment.

"Your grievance has been heard." Gwendal stated quietly.

"Thank you, Sir." The other man said and let himself out the door. When he was gone Gwendal stood up from his chair.

His knitting would have to wait.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"Oh you two look so adorable!" Cheri exclaimed loudly as she stood back to admire their clothes. "I'll make sure that for your wedding you'll have the best clothes that money can buy." Yuuri let out a nervous laugh.

"Is that really necessary, Cheri-sama?" She didn't seem to be listening. She began hovering around Wolfram.

"This is a little tight on you, Wolfie. Perhaps they got the measurements wrong." Wolfram's silence made her pause. "What's wrong Wolf?" What's wrong? Such a simple question that always had a complicated answer.

"Nothing. The suit is beautiful, Mother." Wolfram stared at himself in the mirror. Not long ago he would have been proud to call the person reflected back himself, but now he could hardly recognize his features amidst the white ruffles. This was what he wanted, right? So then why did it feel so wrong?

Three heads turned when the noise of the door opening caught their attention. Gwendal entered the room with Conrad close behind him.

"We have to talk." He told Wolfram, fixing him with a piercing gaze. Wolfram averted his eyes.

"Now?" he muttered quietly, reluctant to give up his precious time with Yuuri. Gwendal's face was set in stone. There would be no argument.

"Mother, could you come with me for a moment? Your opinion is needed on something." Conrad said smoothly. Cheri looked sad, knowing she was being kicked out of an important conversation, but followed Conrad outside anyway.

Yuuri also began to walk away, assuming that this didn't pertain to him. Gwendal held out a hand to stop him.

"This has to do with you as well." Gwendal turned back to Wolfram. "So…" he began "Is there something that you would like to tell me?" His eyes were narrowed dangerously. Wolfram's heart sank. But Gwendal couldn't possibly know, could he?

"What are you talking about, Gwendal?"

"Don't play stupid." Gwendal said, almost disgusted. "You know what a sin it is to bed before marriage." The look of feigned innocence left Wolfram's face as his eyes darted nervously over to Yuuri.

"Aniue-"

"And now look what has occurred!" Gwendal continued, his voice rising. "To think I didn't have enough problems to deal with and now my younger brother has to go ahead and get himself pregnant." Wolfram felt the color rise to his face as he fought the increasing need to defend himself. Unfortunately, he knew that there was no stopping the approaching onslaught.

"It's not the end of the world." Wolfram said quietly, more to assure himself than anything else. Gwendal looked livid.

"As far you should be concerned, it may as well be!" Gwendal roared. "It might already be too late, but if this gets out, you can say goodbye ever showing your face in public again." He whirled around to face Yuuri.

"And you can say goodbye to foreign policy. Something like this is sure to damage your reputation, Your Majesty." Gwendal admonished vehemently. Yuuri blinked in surprise, not quite comprehending what was going on.

"How many months are you?" Gwendal demanded of Wolfram. Wolfram opened his mouth but no words came out. Gwendal took a hold of his shoulders. "Goddamnit Wolfram! Do you see why we had to have Mother leave the room? Imagine how disappointed she would be to know that her son ruined his life making the same stupid mistakes that she did!" Wolfram stared at the ground, trembling slightly, and willing the tears pricking at the edge of his vision to disappear.

"That's enough Gwendal." Came Yuuri's voice. He was angry. "I won't deny that you have every right to scold us, but I believe that you have taken it too far." He walked over to Wolfram and pulled him away from Gwendal.

"News like this, regardless of the situation, should be something to celebrate." Yuuri continued. "You can at least be happy for us and then get started on whatever you need to do to make sure that your family's reputation stays clean." A few moments of silence passed and then Gwendal sighed.

"The wedding will be moved up as soon as possible." He said and turned to walk out the room. "I'll tell Gunter to make the necessary changes and arrange to have the guests start arriving by the end of next week."

"Thank you, Gwendal." Yuuri replied, his face softening. The door shut and the room went quiet.

Wolfram stood there wrapped in Yuuri's arms, not daring to move for fear Yuuri would let go. A minute passed. Then two. Yuuri broke the silence.

"Wolfram." He said "I'm not very well informed about this kind of stuff, but I do know one thing." His black orbs flickered to the man he held gently. "You and I…have never had sex. Therefore, I don't see how this child could possibly be mine." Wolfram did not answer. His hands clung to Yuuri's jacket even tighter. He felt Yuuri's shoulders stiffen slightly. "Come with me, Wolfram. There is something I want to show you."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

It was evening and most of the castle had settled down for the night. Wolfram followed Yuuri down the hall and into the armory. From there he was led into a smaller chamber that he had never entered before.

"Why are we here?" Wolfram asked. Yuuri took out a key and began to unlock a large, metal case. Yuuri sighed.

"I just thought that since I now know the reason that you are marrying me, I would show you the reason that I am marrying you." The lock clicked and Yuuri opened the rusty door.

At first Wolfram recoiled because he thought he was looking at a corpse. Then he realized that he was looking at armor. A horrible, terrifying set of heavy mazoku armor. Black as midnight.

"Yuuri…"

"Do you like it? I had it made special. And once we are married, I will be wearing it into battle." Yuuri said darkly. Wolfram gasped.

"Why?" was all Wolfram could ask. Was Yuuri really saying this? No. The Yuuri that Wolfram knew hated war, hated fighting. It seemed impossible that a man like Yuuri would ever succumb to the demands of war; impossible that he would allow his innocent hands to be tainted by the blood of others for the mere goal of political domination. Perhaps he felt he had no choice but to turn himself into something evil in honor of a higher purpose. If that was the case, then they were both tainted now. There was no reversal, no cure.

"I had to grow up sometime, Wolfram. It was time for me to let go of my silly dreams." Yuuri clenched his fists at his sides. His voice shook. "And it's gonna save me a lot of pain too. All the pain and betrayal that comes with chasing after a foolish thing like peace." Yuuri gave one last sickened look at his wartime outfit before turning on his heel and walking out of the small chamber, leaving Wolfram all alone in the dark.

"What have I done?" whispered Wolfram.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

If think i should keep going, i would really appreciate a review. otherwise it might be another year before you see the next chap :)


	9. Chapter 8

A/N: Here you go kkm people. You're lucky I have a code geass fic to procrastinate on.

Chapter 8

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Sunlight shifted through the cracks in the walls. Charred and black, wood and stone lay in giant heaps and a single tower was all that remained of what used to be a magnificent castle. In the shadows, rats and other small rodents crept just out of sight, searching for food among the wreckage.

A cool wind blew across the leveled ground. Yozak shivered slightly, feeling that he should have thought to wear another layer. How silly of him to have forgotten how cold Big Shimaron could get by the end of the harvesting season. He looked toward the setting sun. He knew he had better finish up before it got too dark to see.

Rubble crumbled under his feet as he walked. He noticed that in the months since the fire, weeds and other plant life had sprung up in the absence of human presence. But Yozak knew that in a few short weeks, the plants would all die with the first frost.

His hands and the soles of his shoes were black and dirty from rummaging around in the abandoned ruins of the castle. He was looking for something, anything that might give him a clue as to what might have caused the ostentatious palace to burn to its foundation.

"If you're here to loot, then I'm afraid you wont be finding much." Yozak turned around. A human girl was walking toward him. She couldn't have been any older than fifteen, but she was richly dressed and bejeweled and spoke in a condescending voice. Upon looking closer he noticed that her clothes were, in fact, patched and frayed at the ends. Perhaps her family had come across hard times, perhaps it was the mark of fallen nobility.

"You filthy beggars defile the house of my father. Leave at once." She ordered haughtily, nose in the air. Yozak didn't leave. He continued to stare at her and slowly wiped the black soot off of his hands.

"Pardon me, Milady, but I was wondering if you happened to know what transpired here in this castle the night it went up in flames." Yozak said with his charming, humble smile that never failed to make a woman swoon.

"You're a Mazoku, aren't you." She said with a look of disgust, mingled with curiosity. Yozak blinked. Perhaps this girl wasn't as dim as she appeared. She took a few steps closer. "Sent to investigate, right? It's only obvious. No one else seems to question the story or the murder. It came at the perfect time didn't it? With us humans yearning to spill enemy blood, it only takes one death to set everything in motion. Only a Mazoku would have a stake in such an investigation…to prove that maybe, just maybe, the entire thing was set up."

"What do you know?" Yozak asked, his eyes narrowing. Her lips curled into a smile and he knew that she would not be telling him.

"Take me to your king." She demanded. Yozak knew he didn't have to put up with this. The act was over. It would be easy to torture her until she confessed everything that she knew. But he could see that underneath her hard exterior, she was a broken woman looking only to exchange valuable information for something as simple as protection. A better deal, from Yozak's perspective, at least for now.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

No man can escape his religion, thought Wolfram, not even a king. Slowly, he ascended the stairs to the enormous alter decked out in Shinou's honor, his long white cape trailing behind him. He got on his knees beside Yuuri, listening to the hushed whispers of the observers from their seats. The last time he had been in this room, he had been possessed by this very god's dark magic so that his heart could be stolen and used to open a box full of evil.

There was nothing that remained of that day now. Everyone else in the room would see the room as it was meant to be seen. The inside of a grand cathedral, lavish, with light spilling in from the stained glass windows and from the candles held in the hands of the priestesses. To them, Shinou's temple was a holy place. Only a few select residents of Covenant Castle that had been involved with the second coming of Soushu knew the truth about the Mazoku god. The public, and the rest of the aristocratic class, remained blissfully unaware. And that was why he and Yuuri were here today. To present themselves as a couple to Shinou so that no believer would question the validity of their marriage. Of course, there would be a larger ceremony back at the castle afterward, and later, an even larger reception to celebrate the king's wedding.

Wolfram listened as Yuuri recited his vows in a detached manner. Lies. To his country, he pledged eternal service. To his people, an heir. To Wolfram, he promised eternal love.

A stiff embrace, accompanied by a chaste kiss upon unwilling lips. The spectators rose to applaud. And just like that, Wolfram Von Bielefield became the second most powerful man in all of Shin Makoku.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"I think you've had enough, Shibuya."

"Nonsense, Murata. Don't you know it's my wedding?" Yuuri slurred, draining another glass of wine. Wolfram shifted slightly in his chair, guilt already beginning to crush him as he listened to his husband and the Great Sage argue. He knew Yuuri was only drinking so that he would have an excuse to leave the party early.

Wolfram was able to survey the entire room from his seat at the high table. Nobles in their finest attire chatted, ate, and competed for attention on the dance floor. This was their natural environment. They seemed completely carefree, completely at ease with the world. How anticlimactic, thought Wolfram, absently watching the twirling skirts of the ladies engaged in a classic dance. He had dreamt of this day since childhood and somehow the excitement, the purity, and the innocence had all evaporated. To Wolfram, a generally cheerful event had been made into a nightmare. For Yuuri, it seemed to be nothing more than a chore.

Wolfram looked up when a hand entered his vision. Murata was bowing before him.

"Your Highness," the sage said, Wolfram's new title rolling off his tongue smoothly, "Would you be so kind as to honor me with a dance?" Wolfram gazed at Yuuri before taking Murata's outstretched hand. Yuuri didn't even glance at them. Wolfram wouldn't admit it, but his husband's apathy hurt.

"Hope you don't mind if I steal your better half for a while, Shibuya." Murata taunted. They walked away from the table with Wolfram wondering what it meant if someone held just their middle finger up.

"I'm afraid that I don't know this particular dance." Wolfram said. Murata removed his hand from Wolfram's shoulder and placed it on his waist.

"Then will you permit me to lead?" He asked, already taking Wolfram's other hand. Wolfram nodded. As they danced, he leaned in with a smirk on his face. "How are you feeling, these days?"

"Fine." Wolfram answered shortly, a blush creeping into his cheeks. The topic had been completely avoided until now so rumors would not be encouraged. It felt strange to be asked about it so calmly.

"Shibuya doesn't seem to be taking the news very well." Murata commented.

"Well it was a bit…unexpected… for him. It wasn't supposed to happen this way." Said Wolfram.

"I bet." Muttered the Great Sage. Wolfram was instantly on guard. Somehow the man seemed to know every detail of his life. Even the things that no one was supposed to know. Murata appeared to sense the suspicion. Suddenly, his smile brightened.

"Shibuya has nothing to complain about. He's gotten everything a king…a _man_ could want. He just doesn't realize that people here would kill to wed someone as beautiful as you."

"You're too kind." Said Wolfram dryly. It was an automatic reaction to such complements. When the song finally ended, Murata didn't immediately let go of Wolfram's hand. He became serious again.

"Von Bielefield. I want you to know that if something ever happens, you can always come to me for help." He said it as if it came from the lips of a jealous man seeking an affair, but Wolfram knew that it had to be something deeper that he was referring to. The Great Sage was always one to be looking ahead.

"I'll keep that in mind."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Yuuri was already fast asleep when Wolfram entered their room that night. If for some reason Yuuri _had_ wanted to be intimate on the night of their wedding, Wolfram would have refused. Too much had happened between them to make things awkward. Too much was happening in the world for there to be any need for personal enjoyment. Instead of climbing in bed beside his new husband, Wolfram sat in the chair.

He did not feel worthy of his title anymore.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Wolfram woke the next morning and found that someone had moved him from the chair and into the bed. Yuuri had left already. It was still early and the sun had yet to rise.

Everything was strangely quiet. The halls were empty, the breakfast room was empty, Gwendal's office was empty. The celebration of the night before had long since ended and the guests had either left or retired to the rooms that had been prepared for them. Wolfram had wandered to the other end of the castle before he finally heard voices around the corner. He stopped to listen.

" –and she's sure he had blonde hair. She may not be an eye-witness but this is the best lead we have." Came Yozak's voice. "All of my trips to Big Shimaron have yielded nothing until now."

"If she really is who she claims to be then we have no choice but believe her." Answered Conrad. Wolfram's heartbeat sped up. When their footsteps had grown faint, he stole a glance down the corridor and saw guards standing at one of the doors. He was able to distract them by setting the vase of flowers at the other end of the hall on fire.

He had already known what would be on the other side of the door. He had been foolish to think that he could commit a crime of such magnitude and escape unscathed. Making dealings with a shady organization, infiltration, impersonation, murder…How unwise of him to have already buried the past and already forgotten about the many loose ends that had never been tended to; many dangerous loose ends, not the least of which that sat before him.

She did not recognize him immediately. It was strange, considering that he was the man who had killed her father and torched her home. Eventually, her eyes did see past the longer hair and expressionless face, but before she could so much as scream, Wolfram's hands were around her neck, prepared to silence her forever. She struggled, but ultimately was no match for a Mazoku's strength. A feeling had overtaken Wolfram's mind. A feeling of desperation. Underneath his fingers he felt the trachea begin to crack. He wondered vaguely just how painful it must feel. When the woman finally went limp in his hands, he could only stand there, panting with his adrenaline racing like never before. Relief washed over him, as if he had just locked up the case that contained all of his darkest secrets.

Only that didn't last long either. A small noise was made from behind him and he turned around.

Yuuri was standing in the doorway.

Wolfram stopped breathing for a moment, his thoughts running rapid in an attempt to formulate a decent explanation for what had just occurred. Nothing came to mind. Too much time had already passed.

"You needn't have done that." Yuuri said quietly. "The moment she entered this castle, we knew…" He held up the tiny silver dagger, the one that was a birthday present from Gwendal. Rust colored blood still stained the blade. "…that it was you." Yuuri looked as if he couldn't believe what he was saying. Wolfram let go of the dead woman and turned to face his husband. He would do the king a favor and erase all of his doubts. The lie was over and Wolfram was tired.

"It was me." Wolfram agreed. "Wolfram von Bielefield is the murderer. He has betrayed his country and his king." He stepped closer to Yuuri. "What will you do with me?" Yuuri's face was set in a dismayed frown. He had been the fool. His arm lashed out and struck Wolfram across the face. Then, Yuuri grabbed him by the hair and shoved his head onto the table. Wolfram felt his nose begin to bleed.

"You're under arrest."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Ever since the 27th demon king of Shin Makoku had ascended the throne, the castle dungeons had been devoid of human life. Yuuri wasn't the type to imprison or torture his enemies, at least not beneath the very floors he lived on. Nevertheless, the dungeons remained untouched from their use by Stoffel. They were as dark and uninviting as ever. A fitting place for a criminal whose crimes against the state should grant him nothing less than the death penalty.

Wolfram sat on the floor of his cell, huddled in on himself in an attempt to drive away the chill. The stone walls and ground offered little comfort for his aching body. He was still dressed in the clothes that he had worn on his wedding day, although he guessed that it had been at least forty-eight hours since he had first been incarcerated. His boots were scuffed, and his white ceremonial garments were gritty and covered in dirt stains.

There was a jingling of keys. Wolfram didn't bother to look up.

"Get up." It was Yuuri's voice.

"Am I to be killed?" wondered Wolfram aloud.

"No one outside the castle knows about what you've done and it's going to stay that way. Now, get up, the gates won't stay open for long." He answered. Wolfram raised his head enough to look at Yuuri.

"Why?" He asked.

"Don't get the wrong idea." Yuuri snarled. "I would just as soon watch you hang." There was silence for a moment as Yuuri collected himself. Wolfram slowly got to his feet. He had refused every meal offered to him while imprisoned and now his legs didn't seem to want to support him. Yuuri caught him before he could faint.

"Gwendal, Conrad, Cheri,…Greta," Yuuri breathed against Wolfram's hair. "They can't bear to see you die. I won't let it happen."

Wolfram didn't protest as Yuuri led him out of his cell and out of the dark keeps of Covenant Castle. It was the dead of night with a full moon shining high overhead. The autumn air was brisk. Leaves flitted across the ground of the courtyard in the strong wind. At the front gates, no guards were posted that night. Wolfram shivered in the cold. With some reluctance, Yuuri shed his coat and put it over Wolfram's small frame.

"This is as far as I can take you." Yuuri said. "You have to leave this place." Wolfram didn't say anything for a minute as he stared at Yuuri's moonlit figure.

"Have I ever told you that I love you?" Wolfram asked. Yuuri bit his lip and looked away.

"Wolfram, please-"

"Because I always will. Even something like this won't be able to change that." Wolfram continued softly. Yuuri grabbed Wolfram by his shoulders.

"Don't say those things now, Wolfram. I don't want to hear them." He demanded. Suddenly, Wolfram felt Yuuri's lips on his own. He closed his eyes, holding the kiss for as long as possible. He knew that it could very well be the last kiss he ever received from his beloved Yuuri. When they broke apart, Wolfram saw the tears sparkling on Yuuri's cheeks.

"I want you to forget about me, Wolfram." He choked. Carefully he removed the blue teardrop pendent from around his neck and placed it in Wolfram's palm. "Take this." He closed Wolfram's hand tightly around it and let go. "It's all I have to give you."

Wolfram found his words highly ironic for a king to say. He took in a deep breath and tied the necklace around his own neck. Then he turned his back on his king and began to walk along the long winding road that would take him away from the castle that he had called home for his entire life.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A/N: Don't get used to this long of chapters.

please review


	10. Chapter 9

*sigh*…still procrastinating on that code geass fic.

Chapter 9

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"Hey you."

Wolfram was aware of someone prodding him in the back. "Hey you! Wake up!" Wolfram grit his teeth angrily and sat up. Why couldn't they just let him sleep?

"You're not welcome in this part of the city. These respectable citizens wont be offering a cent to a tramp like you. Get lost before I run you through with my sword." Wolfram slowly got off the bench he had been sleeping on. He might have been offended if it hadn't been the third or fourth time he had been told something like this.

The city was cold to him. Both literally and figuratively. It was alarming how fast one could slip down the ladder of society. It was frightening how a person who'd been royalty for his whole life could be getting forced out of a "respectable" neighborhood because he couldn't afford to buy a room for the night.

Dawn was beginning to break. Thank Shinou, thought Wolfram. He longed for the sunlight to chase away the bitter fall air of the morning. As Wolfram walked, his hand strayed to his side, momentarily forgetting that he had no sword. He had nothing, actually. No money, No food, No weapon. Nothing but the clothes on his back and…extra baggage… that did nothing but sap his maryoku and his strength.

Wolfram ducked into and alley and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and heaving a sigh.

"Hey mister?" asked a kid's voice. Wolfram looked up to see a child sitting and playing with a stray cat. His clothes were filthy and he had no shoes. "What are you doing, mister?"

"Resting." Answered Wolfram, shortly.

"Those are some mighty fine clothes you got there, mister." The kid said. Wolfram looked down at the clothes exposed under the open coat and scoffed, mildly surprised that the kid was able to see past the wear and the stains. They had once been "fine." Now, after his stay in prison and his week of sleeping on the street, the fabric was torn and dirty, unrecognizable and hardly fit to be worn in a wedding.

Still, they might actually be worth something.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Wolfram looked at the small pile of coins in his hand. His mouth began to water when he thought of the food that he could buy with it, but he knew that there was something more important that he had to do first. The coins went into the pocket of his new shabby peasant clothing. Unlike the fitted jacket, his new clothing (stolen off of someone's line) was a few sizes too big, but did a better job obscuring the small swell of his midsection.

He came upon the shop he was looking for and let himself inside. The place was rank and messy. Wolfram had to keep himself from pinching his nose. Plants were hanging from the ceiling, ugly and overgrown. Jars and shelves full of strange artifacts covered the back wall. Medicines and other herbs in the process of being crushed and mixed sat disorganized on the small work table. An old human woman hobbled into the room, leaning heavily on a gnarled wooden cane.

"Oh ho. Another one, I see." She cackled. She noticed Wolfram's confused face. "I gets young Mazoku like you in here all the time. All gots the same problem. 'Cept the rich ones come because they don't want their parents to find out, and the poor ones come because they can't afford a Mazoku healer to do the job." She produced a small pouch from her pocket and handed it to Wolfram. "That's ok. These old human remedies are cheap and they work just as well." Wolfram could only stare at the strange old woman.

"You…" Wolfram hesitated, "You're sure that this will work?" He was glad he was saved the humiliation of explaining his predicament.

"Put this in your drink and you'll be free of your burden before the next sunrise." She was smiling, as if she hadn't just given Wolfram an instrument of murder. Then she seemed to remember something. "Does your husband or boyfriend know 'bout this?"

"He's a busy man." Wolfram answered.

"You best tell him, boy." The old woman warned. "Unless you want to create more trouble for yourself. Too many times I've been blamed for family squabbles."

"Thank you." Said Wolfram. He already had the money out. He wanted to pay and get out of here as soon as possible, because the more he dwelled on it, the more he was sure he would change his mind.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"Wadda ya have, kid?" The overly curvy and just-past-her-peek woman asked as she leaned on Wolfram's table with her breasts spilling out of her dress.

"Tea." That earned him an obnoxious laugh from his waitress.

"Tea?" she roared. "Well aren't you just one classy gentleman!" Her face became serious again. "This is a pub, kid. All we get is drunks and all we serve is ale."

"Fine. Bring me whatever." It really didn't matter anymore, now that Wolfram thought about it. A few minutes later, a mug was placed in front of Wolfram, its contents sloshing over the top and onto the table._ A poor man's drink, _Wolfram decided and suddenly had the urge to turn up his nose and demand something else. He reached into his shirt and pulled out the pouch, emptying it quickly into the disgusting liquid.

Now Wolfram sat there, staring at the concoction that would rid him of a major problem while trying to convince himself that it was for the best. Once he drank it he could not go back. He brought the tankard to his lips.

"Oh! Pardon me. I can be such a klutz sometimes."

Wolfram narrowed his eyes in anger. His drink had splashed all down his front, leaving him soaked and reeking of alcohol. He turned to see the imbecile who'd just wasted his only money. Wolfram's eyes widened.

"Is this seat taken? I'm sure we can sort this out." He was wearing that ridiculous turban and tinted glasses but Wolfram wasn't fooled.

"What are you doing here, sage?" Wolfram growled as Murata calmly sat down across from him.

"How cruel of you. I thought you'd be happy to see me." Murata said in a low voice. He glanced around to make sure that no one was listening. "You've gotten yourself into quite a mess, I see." Wolfram scowled.

"Is that what you're here to talk about? I'm guilty. I killed the bastard and if I could go back, I'd do it again."

"I know."

"Then what do you want? Are you here to kill me?" Wolfram asked with a bark of laughter. "If so then please do it now. There's really no need to say anything more."

"Oh spare me the self-pity!" the Great Sage snarled suddenly. "I happen to know the whole story, Wolfram, and I know you're not completely to blame for the murder." Wolfram went silent, hiding the surprise from his expression. Murata's eyes narrowed. "Don't you want revenge, Von Bielefield?"

"I…"

"You don't have to fault yourself for what's happened when there is a clear culprit." Wolfram's heart began to speed up after hearing the sage's words. Doubt, however, still clouded his mind.

"They are not something that can be defeated; they are a secret organization, completely underground." Wolfram countered, bitterly. Murata shifted his glasses and folded his hands neatly in front of him.

"Von Bielefield, I have long been investigating STOPPE. My work is top secret. Not even Gwendal is aware. However, these recent incidents with the White Crows have led me to believe that there may be some connection between the two." He rubbed chin, thoughtfully. "The White Crows are a much easier target. If we can track them down then there is a chance that we can learn some valuable information that can help us break up a long standing criminal organization." Wolfram stood up.

"And you want my help?" he guessed. The Great Sage studied him for a moment.

"Not now, of course. It's going to take time. Besides, you have your health to think about." Murata answered. Wolfram plopped ungracefully back into his chair.

"No I don't. The sooner I get rid of this…thing, the better. I don't have time to waste on child." Said Wolfram sourly. Murata picked up the empty mug, examining it carefully.

"I guess I should have expected something like this from a selfish brat like you." He chuckled darkly. Wolfram's face flushed angrily, but he couldn't deny it. Murata continued. "And I suppose lecturing you on the value of life would be a waste of time, so I will just tell you straight out. You WILL carry the child to full term."

"Hell no. Who do you think you are, sage? My body is none of your business." Wolfram crossed his arms.

"I disagree. What if I told you that Shinou is very interested in that child?"

"I'd say that was a load of horse shit."Scoffed Wolfram.

"Well, he's more than interested. Wolfram, you've been chosen."

"Chosen?" He arched a brow incredulously.

"Yes. That is Shinou's soul that you are carrying."

"I don't believe you." Wolfram decided. He stood up again. "Now, if you're not here to kill me or help me, I really don't see why I should continue talking to you."

"You can SIT down and SHUT up." Murata hissed in a deadly voice. It sent chills down Wolfram's spine. The Great Sage was angry with him. Wolfram sat back down. Murata continued in a low voice, "I'm not asking you to do this, Wolfram, I am telling you. I don't think you realize just how important this is. If I have to lock you up somewhere, then I will." Wolfram began to laugh in disbelief. Then he buried his face in his palms.

"I was thinking that I deserved all that has happened to me recently, but now I am not certain. Surely I am not so evil that my punishment must be such torture!" His face felt hot and his emotions were threatening to spill. "Why me?" he pleaded to Murata. "You said it. I'm a selfish and spoiled prince who's used to being handed whatever his capricious, shallow heart desires. I can think of no worse person for the job. I can't even care for myself on my own and I certainly don't know the first thing about…about...having a baby. I was a fool to have not gotten rid of it before everyone at the castle…before Yuuri… found out." Wolfram could have slapped himself after realizing that he was crying. He roughly scrubbed the tears from his eyes, hoping that Murata hadn't seen them. The Great Sage let out a sigh.

"You really do care for Shibuya, don't you? This is a great task that has been bestowed upon you, Von Bielefield, and I can't let you just brush it aside." He looked upon Wolfram with sincerity. "Do this for me. For the entire Mazoku race. In return, I promise to help you clear your name."

Wolfram let a brief flicker of hope invade his mind. It had been absent for so long that Wolfram almost didn't recognize the feeling. He stared at Murata's outstretched hand.

"Do we have a deal?" Wolfram cautiously placed his hand in Murata's.

"I suppose." He answered. The Great Sage stood but Wolfram grabbed his arm. "Wait." Wolfram said. Everything that had just happened was a lot to take in. He was suddenly feeling very lost. "Where are you going? Tell me what I should do now."

"Have you forgotten? We are waging a war. My duties as Shibuya's chief strategist require that I return to the castle." Murata said. Wolfram let his hand fall back to his side. "My advice to you, Von Bielefield, is to find someplace to settle in for the winter." Together, Murata and Wolfram walked out the door of the dirty tavern and into the cold wind.

"What if I can't do it?" Wolfram asked. Murata turned around, his face grave.

"I won't lie to you, Von Bielefield. These coming months are going to be hard, but there is no doubt in my mind that you will get through them." A coach had pulled up for the Great Sage. He already had a foot inside. Wolfram realized that he would be getting no further advice. Despite what the sage had said, Wolfram would be getting no map, no compass, no drawn out plan of where he was to go and what was going to happen. He lowered his eyes to stare at the ground.

"Watch over the wimp for me." Wolfram grumbled after a minute of silence. "Who knows what kind of trouble he'll be getting himself into without me around." Murata smiled.

"Goodbye Wolfram. I will see you again when spring comes." The door shut. Wolfram stared after the disappearing carriage with an increasing feeling of loneliness an increasing fear of what the future was to bring.

"Bye."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

It was late afternoon and the sun had emerged fully from behind the dreary blanket of clouds and the temperature had risen enough for it to be quite nice. Wolfram found that it was much easier for him to enjoy the season of autumn when he wasn't constantly thinking about how cold he was.

He seemed to have stumbled upon a marketplace of sorts. It was bustling with farmers and vendors eager to sell off the last of their harvests and buyers looking to stock up for the winter. Wolfram had been to a market before, but only remembered seeing it through the carriage window in passing.

Besides the obvious function of a market, it also seemed to be a place of heavy gossip. News about the war was told from the mouths of travelers coming into town to the anxious wives awaiting the return of their husbands. Inflation, natural disasters, court scandals, were all being discussed around Wolfram. The place seemed to be the center of information exchange.

Suddenly, a loud booming voice was heard through the crowd.

"Make way for the king! Make way for his majesty the Maou!" The throng of people parted to the sides and began to wave and cheer enthusiastically. Wolfram made his way to the back of the crowd, pulling his hood around his golden hair. He did not wish to look upon the face of his love. He pretended to be inspecting the fish that were being sold at a nearby stall, even though there was no way he could afford to buy anything. He asked the peddler for the price anyway. The man didn't seem to hear. His eyes were fixed on the road behind Wolfram, where Yuuri was undoubtedly passing, riding majestically on his black horse.

Wolfram chalked his annoyance up to impatience. He asked again. The man opened his mouth, still not looking at Wolfram.

"I just can get over how beautiful he is…that Wolfram Von Bielefield."

"What?" muttered Wolfram, completely puzzled. He turned around, following the man's gaze. There was Yuuri, sitting atop Ao, looking as handsome as ever in his dark clothing. He greeted the crowd with a fake smile plastered on his face.

But riding next to him was what made Wolfram gasp. On a white mare sat an attractive man with fair skin and blonde hair. He raised a gloved hand as his horse walked, waving lightly to the standing admirers. He stared at Yuuri with a lovely grin showing his flawless teeth. His eyes were green and he wore the blue Von Bielefield uniform. He was everything the husband of a king should be. He was unmistakably Wolfram Von Bielefield.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Yay! Cliffhanger.

After reading this chapter over, I realized that things are getting a little biblical.

-And the angel Gabriel came to Wolfram and said "you will have the son of God"-

Damn it! This shit always happens to me. I think I'm being punished for my atheistism


	11. Chapter 10

A/N: I'm aware that my Yuuri is a little angsty and violent in this fic but remember that he is older and severely depressed. Also, there is just something so satisfying about corrupting good people.

I was informed that Wolfram's last name is spelled Bielefeld, not Bielefield. From now on, that's how it will be spelled.

Chapter 10

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Yuuri stormed down the castle halls with Conrad beside him.

"Why is it that Gwendal wants to see me?" he asked Conrad.

"I think, Your Majesty, that it has to do with the actions that you took four nights ago when you let a high security prisoner escape from the castle." Yuuri could not believe Conrad could talk about his brother so impersonally. He pushed open the door to Gwendal's office.

Gwendal sat at his desk. A stack of papers had been pushed aside to show his ever-serious face. Behind him stood-

_Wolfram?_

No, no that was impossible. Yuuri felt incredibly stupid. The person was far too young to be Wolfram. He was too short. His hair was too dark.

"It's an honor to finally meet you, Your Majesty." The boy said, approaching Yuuri and stooping into a low bow.

"Gwendal," Yuuri growled, rudely ignoring the boy, "What is the meaning of this?" Gwendal sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingertips.

"Because his Majesty had taken it upon himself to set free -"

"Are you actually saying that what I did was wrong!?" Interrupted Yuuri hotly.

"Calm down. I have not, in any way, disagreed with what you've done. Thus far, we've been able to keep quiet all that has happened with Wolfram. In order for things to stay that way, however, there are certain precautions that we must take."

"What kind of precautions..." Yuuri asked suspiciously, glancing at their guest.

"As of now," Gwendal began, "this country has no queen. Now it would be quite a hassle to find you another spouse and waste all that time and effort on another marriage. Not to mention, we would have to announce Wolfram's death. You can imagine what an uproar this would cause both with the court and with the entire kingdom. I have devised a simpler solution. We are going to fool the public into thinking that you are still happily married to Wolfram." Yuuri frowned. He did not like where this was going at all.

Gwendal motioned toward the boy who was still kneeling before Yuuri. "This, Your Majesty, is Ralph Von Bielefeld. From now on he is your husband." Yuuri stared at the both of them.

"…So we're just going to forget about Wolfram? We're just going to replace him?" Yuuri asked this even though he had already accepted that such a thing would be necessary.

"We've done all we can for him, Your Majesty." Gwendal replied, rather frustrated. "There must be a reason for what he did, but the fact is we cannot ignore the law. Wolfram's life is in his own hands now, and if he is smart, he will stay away from this place." Yuuri bowed his head.

"Even so…" Yuuri said, clenching his fists. He gestured to the Bielefeld boy. "He is nothing like Wolfram. Just look at him!" Yuuri walked over and grabbed a handful of the boy's hair. "This hair…" he tilted the chin up. "This face…It's all wrong. Who is this little kid going to fool?" Yuuri demanded.

"Forgive me for saying this, Your Majesty, but people are stupid. They are easy manipulated. They see what they want to see. The differences that seem so obvious to you will not be noticed by the common man. I suggest you let go of your stubbornness in order to make all of our lives easier." Gwendal said.

"With all due respect, Your Majesty," the boy, Ralph, was speaking to Yuuri, "I may be young, but even from what I understand about human life spans, seventy years is a lot more than twenty." Yuuri's lip curled at the insult. He shoved the boy into Gwendal's desk.

"I guess his mouth is comparable to Wolfram's." Yuuri admited. Gwendal grunted and leaned over to straighten out a pile of documents that were on the verge of toppling.

"He is a Bielefeld, after all." Gwendal commented. Yuuri let out a frustrated sigh.

"You've already decided to do this, haven't you Gwendal? It doesn't even matter what I think does it?" Yuuri guessed.

"Well you are the last person in this castle to know." Gwendal responded. Yuuri gritted his teeth and walked over to the door.

"Then, I don't see why you even bothered to call me here." He wrenched the door open. "You can make that brat my husband if you wish, but I don't want to see his face while he's in my castle."

The door slammed.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"I'm leaving and that's final!" The old farmer shouted at his pestering friend. "I'm finished here in the city and I'd like to get home as soon as possible."

"But I've heard talk of a nasty group of bandits along that road. You might never make it home. That's why I think you should wait a while until everyone else starts clearing out too."

"You sound like my wife. I don't believe in those stories you hear from drunks."

"I'm telling you, it's dangerous to go alone." Said the worried friend. Wolfram was done listening to the two of them bicker. He pulled his hood over his head and approached the farmer as he was loading up his wagon.

"If you are in need of a bodyguard, I would be happy to take up the job." Wolfram said. The old farmer set down the crate he was carrying and studied Wolfram.

"What kind of bodyguard doesn't even have a sword?" The man grunted impatiently.

"My flames are more than enough." Wolfram responded, conjuring a small fire in one palm to prove his abilities.

"Forget it, kid." The farmer said, picking up the crate again and putting it with the others already stacked in the wagon. "I can't afford a bodyguard anyway."

"I don't care about the money. I'm just looking for a ride out of this city." Wolfram said. The old farmer was silent as he continued to work. After a while, he turned back to Wolfram and held out a hand.

"The name's Dirk." He said, introducing himself.

"Julian." Wolfram replied, shaking his hand.

"Come over here and give me a hand with this. Make yourself useful."

Only a few hours went by before they were finally passing through the front gates. Wolfram sat in the back of the wagon, one leg pulled up to his chest and the other dangling lazily over the edge as he watched the magnificent capital become farther and farther away. Wolfram was glad he had decided to leave the city. It was better to be away from his family, his friends, and all the faces that he knew. It was better to get away and not constantly be reminded of what he could no longer have. He wasn't needed anymore. Yesterday was proof. Seeing his cousin play the part of royal consort so perfectly made Wolfram realize that things would carry on without him. He was, after all, just a face…just a name. It was just politics.

Wolfram stretched out with his arms behind his head and looked up at the clear blue sky. He stopped his mind before it could bring up images of Yuuri (something it often did in boredom) and instead forced himself to think of the overwhelming subject of where to go next, what to do, who to find. It brought him into deep despair when he thought about how he really didn't know how to live his new life.

He allowed one of his hands to rest on his abdomen. He'd never before given much thought to the other life that he was responsible for. It was a lingering reminder of what he had done. All mazoku, male and female, were expected to be married before starting a family. In most noble families, a child not born out of wedlock would receive no inheritance and the parents would be disowned. Wolfram knew that society was sure to look down on him, no matter his social class.

They made camp that night. It was going to take a good three days before they reached their destination. Wolfram was told by Dirk that he shouldn't feel obliged to accompany the farmer the entire way and that he was free to leave whenever he pleased. Wolfram already knew that he would take this wagon as far as he could. He had nowhere else to go anyway.

It was the second day that Wolfram would have an abrupt change of plan.

He awoke that morning to nausea far more intense than what plagued him most days and went off into the trees to heave his guts out. Upon returning, he found an irate Dirk storming up to him.

"Did you set the horse lose last night? And where's the food?" his eyes darkened. "I had a feeling that you were a dirty thief!" he accused hotly.

Wolfram had no idea what he was talking about. Suddenly, Wolfram was aware that his morning sickness might not have been that. He knew this feeling. He narrowed his eyes. There was a Horyoku user nearby.

Wolfram dropped to the ground, pulling the old farmer with him, as arrows whizzed over their heads. They crawled behind the wagon.

"What is it?" asked Dirk. Wolfram attempted a peak around the corner.

"Could be bandits…" said Wolfram. He rolled up his sleeves. "Could be something worse."

"Something worse?" Wolfram didn't have time to answer. He heard horses approaching and suddenly there were flaming arrows catching fire to their supplies. He easily put them out and stood up. He walked out from the protection of the farm cart.

One, two, three. Three men on horses. The first one advanced upon Wolfram, swinging a heavy sword. Wolfram called upon his maryoku and directed the fire at the first bandit. It singed his clothes but he blocked the worst of the stream with his sword. Wolfram was panting heavily already and he was aware that his attack wasn't nearly as strong as it should have been.

Pain erupted in his leg and he looked down to see an arrow embedded in his flesh. While concentrating on one bandit he had lost track of the other two. This would not do. It was three against one.

"All beings that make up the element of fire, obey this mazoku who summons you." Wolfram declared.

A giant fire lion materialized above Wolfram. Two of the enemy backed away in fright. Wolfram smirked and unleashed his pet on them. He would have laughed as the team of bandits shrieked in pain but Wolfram realized the something was horribly wrong. He had lost control of his own maryoku. Soon, everything was burning. The supplies, the wagon, the nearby trees.

Wolfram fell onto his hands and knees, gasping for breath. He used what little strength he had left to call back his lion and end the attack.

He suddenly felt cold steel on the back of his neck accompanied by a vicious cackle.

"Can I make his head roll, boss?"

"Go take care of the geezer."

"You're no fun. The young ones have the best screams." The blade left the back of his neck and bandit number three scurried away.

Wolfram attempted to stand but a boot came smashing down upon his head, forcing his face into the dirt.

"Stay down." Wolfram heard the jingle of noisy spurs drawing nearer.

"Take your foot off him. Let's have a looksie." Wolfram's hands were tied behind him and he was lifted so that he was facing bandit number one. He was heavily muscled with short, spikey, blue hair and an arrogant smile.

"Well well. We got ourselves a pretty one, don't we, Shooter?"

"We should kill him. He's obviously dangerous. It is a stroke of good fortune that we have not been burned alive."

"He caused us quite a bit of trouble. There's nothing else worth stealing now 'cept him. I'm taking him." Wolfram began to struggle. The first bandit reached down and twisted the arrow still entrenched in his leg. The pain was awful but Wolfram refused to make a sound. He grit his teeth. His vision was beginning to blur and he could feel the creeping unconsciousness. "See, Blondie? It's better if you don't move." There was a horrible scream. Wolfram's eyes widened.

"Dirk…" whispered Wolfram, recognizing the voice of his traveling companion.

"Yeesh. Let's get outta here, Shooter. I'm not going to listen while he cuts the guy up."

Wolfram was thrown over the back of one of the horses. He couldn't bring himself to look at the old man getting tortured. All he could think about was that he had failed as a bodyguard.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Yuuri had a feeling he was going insane.

He sat in the bath, dreading the coming sleepless night. The water had turned cold after the first few hours had passed. The steam and the bubbles had long since disappeared.

The nightmares had returned. Every night he would awake to find his sheets drenched in sweat, with his heart racing like he had just run a marathon. Sometimes he would wake up shaking with fear, not sure if what he had just witnessed was reality or not. There would be no sleep after that. There was no escape.

He dreamt of battle, of the atrocities of war, of dying a horrible gruesome death. He dreamt of following Greta into that forest of thorns, observing things so twisted that he would not be able to put them in words.

He dreamt of Wolfram. Sometimes he was watching Wolfram bleed to death in his arms while knowing that there was nothing he could do for him. Sometimes he dreamt of Wolfram's body. Wolfram would be lying on their bed, hot and aroused, begging for Yuuri to come and touch him. At that moment Yuuri would want nothing else in the world more than to satisfy his lust, but instead he would wake with an aching erection and only his hand for company.

Yuuri grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his waist. He didn't bother to dry his hair. Water dripped down his face as he left the baths and climbed the stairs to his bedroom. Once inside, he dropped the wet towel to the floor and went to find his pajamas in his closet.

"Good evening, Your Majesty." said a quiet voice. Yuuri jumped a mile. He turned around, using both hands to hide his nakedness. A figure sat up on Yuuri's bed.

"What the hell do you think you are doing in my room?" Yuuri growled. Ralph looked embarrassed. He averted his eyes, blushing heavily.

"It wasn't my idea." He mumbled. "I was ordered to pretend to be your husband at all times." He looked mortified as he fingered the sheets nervously. "Also…I was told that eventually I would have to give you a child," he hesitated before leaning back against the pillows and pushing the covers back to reveal his thin body, "So…let's get it over with."

Yuuri wasn't listening. He noticed that Ralph was wearing a pink nightgown…Wolfram's pink nightgown.

"How dare you wear that nightgown!" Yuuri hissed, his mind succumbing to blinding fury. He stomped over to the bed. The boy threw his hands up defensively.

"I'm sorry. Please! I didn't know." Yuuri grabbed a handful of the silky pink cloth and tore it off of the small body.

"Get out of my sight." snarled Yuuri.

"I-"

"OUT!" Yuuri screamed. He seized a pale wrist and threw the poor boy out the bedroom door. When Yuuri was alone again, he sank to the floor, breathing heavily and clutching the shredded pink cloth to his bare chest.

He began to sob.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

please review.


	12. Chapter 11

A/N: This fic seems to be in OC land right now. My earlier promise regarding OCs still stands (for the most part). OCs will not (really) be paired up with main characters.

Chapter 11

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

The sun rose to a light flurry of snow falling softy from the grey sky. The wheels of a carriage creaked as they rolled over the hard, frozen ground that had been painted over with white frost sometime during the night before. Two uniformed men rode on either side of the carriage. Their breath was released as steamy puffs into the chilly air.

The man inside the carriage was a wealthy merchant. He had left the nearby town after some very lucrative business dealings and now a chest full of money sat on the seat beside him. It had been a good year and he loved the feeling of returning home a richer man.

He was thrown forward when the carriage came to an abrupt halt. He pushed open the door to yell at his driver.

"What is the meaning of this?!" he demanded.

"Well, Sir, there seems to be someone blocking the road." The driver answered. The merchant stepped out of his carriage and saw a body lying in the middle of the dirt path. Normally, he would never feel inclined to help a lost traveler, but he could see that the person was on the verge of death and his conscience got the better of him.

He walked slowly over to the body. It was a beautiful young man with blonde hair. His clothing was too light for the season and the merchant could see that poor thing was at least six months pregnant. He sat up.

"Are you alright?" the merchant asked, kneeling beside him.

"How kind of you, good Sir, to stop for me." He said. He was shivering.

"What in the world are you doing out here all alone?"

"I'm afraid I have sprained my ankle and I can no longer walk. I was sure I was going to die out here." He let out a few sickly coughs. He grabbed hold of the merchant's arm. "Oh, you won't leave me to freeze, will you?" he asked desperately, his wide green eyes sparkling with tears. "Please…" he laid a hand on his stomach. "I don't want to put my child's life in jeopardy. I have nothing else to live for." The merchant felt immense pity for the boy.

"Oh you poor thing. I'll do all that I can for you." He answered. The blonde haired beauty smirked at these words.

"In that case…"

A ball of fire was suddenly in the boy's palm. "Hand over the key to that safe that's in the back…unless you'd rather I search your dead body." The merchant was completely shocked. He looked back and gasped when he saw that his guards were each lying in a pool of blood.

He had been tricked.

Slowly he reached into his pocket and pulled out an old key. When he held it out, it was snatched from his hand by someone else.

"Was all that really necessary, Rookie?" said a new voice. "Don't you think you laid it on a little thick?"

"It worked, didn't it?" the blonde huffed indignantly, as he was helped to his feet. "I doubt _you_ could have pulled it off."

Another man appeared, carrying the chest that he'd stolen from the carriage. The three of them turned their attention to the helpless merchant.

"You have my money, now… so please spare me!" he cried, frightened. The one with the sword laughed as they all mounted their horses.

"Don't worry, we won't kill you. That's our friend's job." He said. The three of them began to ride away. The beautiful blonde-haired bandit spared the merchant one last glance. He, at least, seemed to still have some conflicting feelings. After a moment he scowled, digging his heels into his mount roughly and taking off after his accomplices.

The merchant gulped and slowly turned around. A rather short man with bandages covering most of his head sat Indian-style on the ground, surrounded by a variety of sharp weapons all laid out in a neat circle. He looked upon the terrified merchant with two different colored eyes and a genuinely confused expression.

"Which one of these do you like best?"

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

None of them had names, Wolfram learned from the months he had spent with them. There was no trust in the group and Wolfram had pieced together that they all were criminals that had pretty big prices on their heads. The one with the sword, Wolfram discovered, was the most talkative. He seemed to have appointed himself the leader and had taken it upon himself to give everyone a nickname for convenience's sake.

"_The one with the arrows? That's Shooter." _he informed Wolfram one night._ "He's a human. Ugh! Disgusting creatures if you ask me. He knows his houjutsu, though. I'd rather not get in a tangle with him."_

"_Skinner is the one with the bandages. Believe me, you don't want him to take them off. The guy's a monster. A freak of nature. It's a wonder that I haven't been murdered in my sleep…Don't tell him I said that ."_

"_As for me, you can call me Striker."_

Wolfram wasn't asked to give his own name, nor did he tell it. Names weren't all that important to these people. Most of the time he was 'Rookie' or 'Blondie'. It served the purpose. It wasn't clear to Wolfram how exactly he managed to get absorbed into the group of misfits. He supposed it suited him, though. He was, after all, a criminal himself.

It was dark when they reached their camp. Wolfram sat down by fire and brought the dying embers back to life. He leaned against the tree and sighed. The busy day had left him quite drained. He found himself wondering how he had gotten so tired when he'd hardly done a thing. Only twice he had used his maryoku and it had been with much difficulty. Every day that passed it seemed that more of his ability was taken away. He despised the thought of being weak and he only wished he had a sword to compensate for his waning maryoku.

His fatigue didn't go unnoticed. Striker looked up from fiddling with the stolen chest and stared at Wolfram from across the fire.

"You don't look all that good. Maybe you should have listened when we warned you about riding a horse." he commented. Wolfram pretended not to hear him. He gazed blankly into the orange glowing light.

"I refuse to be the distraction on the next job." Wolfram said quietly. "Let me do something else this time."

"No. We don't need any more screw-ups." responded Striker. He shoved the key into the black chest and opened it to reveal a mound of golden coins. "Wahoo!"

"I didn't know wanting to save someone's life was a 'screw up'."

"Look at all this money!" Striker exclaimed, ignoring him.

"Please just let me prove myself. I know I can do something more useful."

"Can you believe that there are some people that are just born with this kind of money? Wish I was that lucky. If I was that rich I'd buy enough drink to last me a lifetime." He began to laugh, already caught up in his fantasy. Wolfram stood up and began to walk away from the other man. If he was only going to be ignored then he figured he might as well go off and sleep on his own. "Haha! Hey Rookie, what would you do if you were born rich as a prince?" He asked innocently. Wolfram clenched his fists.

"I'd marry a king…and live happily ever after." muttered Wolfram.

"God, is that what being pregnant does to you? I'm never trying it." He said to Wolfram's back. After a while he spoke up again, this time serious. "Come back over here. I've got a new idea on how we can make money, but I'm going to need help from all of you bastards."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Yuuri looked up when Greta walked into his office. He tried to smile, but he must have looked less than happy because his daughter only sighed.

"Everyone is ready for you, father. It isn't wise to keep them waiting." she said. Yuuri stood up slowly from his chair.

"I want you to come with me today, Greta." Yuuri replied. He walked past her on the way out of his office and she began to follow him down the hall quietly. A few minutes later they reached the giant doors of the meeting room and were let in by the two soldiers standing guard outside the room.

Yuuri said no words of greeting as he took his seat at the far end of the table. Greta sat next to him. This caused the ten aristocrats to look puzzled.

"My husband is ill and will not be joining us today." Yuuri said, answering their questioning stares.

"Still?" asked Waltorana skeptically. "It must be serious if he has been ill for this long. Perhaps one of my healers could look at him, your majesty." he suggested.

"That is unnecessary. It is nothing life-threatening." Yuuri responded in a tired manner. He just wanted to get this meeting over with and not have to deal with Wolfram's uncle asking bothersome questions. It was bad enough that Gwendal and Conrad were no longer here to keep him from making any blunders. They had left a few weeks ago to command their armies overseas, leaving Yuuri and the castle in the care of Gunter while they were gone.

The meeting began as it always did, with discussion of the war. While the specific strategies and battle plans were clearly best left to the generals, Yuuri had learned that the nobles couldn't move on without putting in their two cents as well. As much as Yuuri hated sitting through the hours of heated debate, it was a small price to pay in order to keep them all happy. And as much as he hated to admit it, he did value their different opinions and ideas when it came to this subject.

"This war had already gone on much longer than anticipated. We came in thinking we would win this quickly but I don't see it happening." said Von Wincott.

"We can still win." argued Von Grantz. "So what if it's been a bit long? It changes nothing."

"Shin Makoku is losing ground. The humans are putting up a tougher fight than we expected. Perhaps we should pull out. We can't expect to best them on their frozen terrain."

"Are you insane?"

"Yes, are you telling us to surrender?"

"We may be able to find a way to appease them. What are their demands?"

Yuuri hadn't said a word, yet. He was looking at Greta while the aristocrats argued, gauging her reactions and wondering what she was thinking. She had never taken part in a discussion like this before.

"The demands of Big Shimaron and her allies are nothing short of the enslavement or extermination of the Mazoku race, I'm sure." Waltorana commented.

"I agree. There is no reasoning with these barbarians. We must continue to fight."

"But what of our troops? We've already exhausted so many of our forces. And the expenditure of this war may leave us groveling at the feet of other human countries when this is all over with."

"Gunter," said Yuuri, speaking for the first time. The others quieted down. "What do you think?" The man had been sitting quietly at the table with his fingers laced together and his brow furrowed. He looked at Yuuri.

"I think, your majesty, that we must make a decision. We could attempt to open peace talks with Big Shimaron…" There were angry protests from most of the gathered aristocrats. Yuuri held up a hand until they had all stopped talking. Gunter continued, "Or, we may be forced to enter a state of total war."

Yuuri sat back in his chair and indicated that he was still listening.

"Escalated fighting would mean that we would have to begin rationing the country's food, we would have to dramatically increase production of weapons and armor, and I would also propose that we begin drafting men into our army."

"A draft?" asked Greta suddenly. "You mean we would be forcing people to go fight?" she sounded completely disgusted with the idea.

"Precisely, Princess." answered Gunter. She glanced quickly at Yuuri but did not respond.

"This draft," said Yuuri after a moment. "make sure that it includes human and half human men. I don't want to discriminate."

"Yuuri-" began Greta. He turned to her.

"Big Shimaron can burn to the ground. We will make her kneel before our might."

Greta closed her mouth. She was silent for the rest of the meeting.

A few hours later, it was over. Yuuri followed his daughter as she walked swiftly down the hall. He followed her until they were standing outside in the courtyard. Yuuri felt the wind going right through his clothes and raising goose bumps on his skin. The stiff grass crunched under his shoes.

"Is Ralph really sick?"Greta asked without turning around.

"No. Waltorana would recognize him if he showed up today." Yuuri replied. Greta huffed and was silent for a moment.

"I heard that you've been trying to name me your heir." she said.

"You are my daughter." responded Yuuri. Even as he said it, he was aware of the reality crushing down upon him.

"Stop it, Yuuri." she said, turning to face him. "I may be your daughter, but I am a human. It is not the place of a human to become the ruler of a country of Mazoku. Besides, what is the point? In less than a decade I will be older than you anyway." When Yuuri did not answer, she crossed her arms and sighed.

"I'm going to leave for a while, Yuuri. I already have my things packed. I can't take this madness anymore."

"Madness?" asked Yuuri.

"Yes. This war, these lies, politics…Ralph." she spat with distaste. "Doesn't anyone realize what's happening? How can life just keep going on like nothing's wrong? What about Wolfr-"

"Don't say that name." growled Yuuri. Greta stomped a foot angrily.

"WOLFRAM!WOLFRAM!WOLFRAM!" she shouted. "You can't ask me to forget about my father! I don't know who you are anymore Yuuri! Didn't you love him at all?" The accusation caught Yuuri off-guard. He opened his mouth, but then closed it again.

"Where will you go?" He asked, if only to change the subject.

"You don't need to know. When you are back to your old self again, I will return to the castle."

"What if you get lost?" said Yuuri.

"You should be more worried about yourself, father. You are more lost than I could ever be."

She left Yuuri standing in the freezing courtyard.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Many miles away in a remote village, two people walked into a small inn. They looked as if they were husband and wife. The man was quite short. Two mismatched eyes were visible through his heavily bandaged face. His shirt, although presentable enough, was splattered with strange red stains on one of his sleeves. The woman was beautiful. With sleek blonde hair and soft green eyes, she looked like she came from a wealthy family, even in the plain clothes that she wore. She held her pregnant belly and smiled disarmingly at the man behind the desk.

"A room for tonight, please." the husband grunted.

"Actually we were thinking of staying for more than one night." the wife said sweetly. She batted her eyelashes at the man. "What kind of fun things does this quaint little town have to offer?" she asked.

The man scratched his beard. He wasn't at all in the mood for this. It was late and he just wanted to get to bed already. He thought about what could possibly be 'fun' about this place.

"Well there's going to be an execution tomorrow. Everyone's going to go see that." he tore one of the wanted posters off of the board behind him. "See this guy here? He's finally been caught. He was worth a hellofva lot of money too. The damn human who caught him is one lucky sonofabitch. Tomorrow this guy's gonna get his at the guillotine." He brought his hand across his throat as if he were slitting his neck. He began to laugh. "Should make for some good entertainment. You should stop by."

The husband looked bored, but the wife was staring at the picture on the wanted poster of the criminal with the short blue hair.

"It sounds quite lovely. We'll definitely be there." she said as she flashed him another peculiar smile.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Ok, I want to know how many of you I fooled with the beginning of this chapter. Come on, admit it.

Please review.


	13. Chapter 12

A/N: Someday I will get around to rewriting the beginning of this story…someday

Movie influences for this chapter: "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly"

Chapter 12

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"Read the charges!"

Wolfram stood in the soft layer of snow in the village square with a hand on his belly, feeling the restless life within. His throat was painfully sore. Even in the cold air his head felt hot and feverish. _What a time to be catching a cold_, he thought, wiping his nose on his sleeve. He was standing in the back of the crowd as they were all about to witness a public execution. Wolfram stared up at the guillotine like the rest of the spectators. The man he had come to know as 'Striker' had his neck enclosed in the wooden entrapment with the blade poised ominously above, held only by a single rope. One of the village men began to read off his numerous crimes.

Beside him, Wolfram heard his pretend husband begin to chuckle.

"So long, asshole." he muttered under his breath. Wolfram glared at him.

"What do you mean 'so long'? Now that Shooter has gotten the reward money, the plan is to rescue him." Wolfram hissed.

"Why? How about we just let him die? It will be easy. We can stand here, and when these pompous fools stop blabbering, the blade will drop. The women will all scream at the sight of the grotesque severed head even though they no doubt have witnessed this several times before. The blood will stain, but life will go on, for them and for us. Although, with one less person in our party, the reward money split between each of us will grow significantly." said Skinner, grinning maliciously. Wolfram scowled in disbelief.

"He is your…" Wolfram searched for the right word, "He is your accomplice! It was his idea to do this in the first place. How can you betray him like that?!"

"The way I see it…" began the other man slowly as he looked upon the unfortunate thief in the guillotine, "there are two kinds of people out there." His strange eyes flickered over to Wolfram. "There are liars and there are killers. If you aren't good at either of those things you won't last long in this world." He held Wolfram's gaze for a moment, then turned and began to walk away.

"Wait." said Wolfram, his nails digging into his palms as he came to a decision. "Give me his sword. I will rescue him myself." Skinner handed the weapon to Wolfram. He grabbed the hilt and stepped forward.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Yuuri couldn't place it, but he knew there was something missing.

Surely she was embodiment of every man's fantasy. She had large breasts, long silky hair, smooth skin, and green eyes that burned with passion. The way she moved, the way she looked…he was hard…

And yet something was just not quite right.

The lavish bed in the royal chambers creaked softly as she knelt over him. Blonde ringlets fell forward onto his face and red lips softly met up with his own. Yuuri broke the kiss.

"I know that I asked you to come here tonight, Cheri-sama, but I am afraid I've changed my mind about this." Yuuri said. The former queen smiled sympathetically.

"I understand, your majesty." She replied, sitting up. "I don't believe that a man has ever turned me down before." She said with a small chuckle while fixing her dress. "But I suppose that this is hardly appropriate for me to be taking over such duties that rightfully belong to my son."

Yuuri didn't appreciate the jab, but he knew that he deserved it all the same. He didn't want to talk about Wolfram, even though he had found himself thinking more and more about him. Cheri stretched out on the bed beside Yuuri.

"I remember how lonely this big bed would be at night." Cheri sighed, reaching a hand up to run through Yuuri's dark hair. "Having no one to share it with always made me long for the gentle embrace of a lover." Yuuri did not say anything, in his head denying that he ever had a need for such a person. "Perhaps you should call on Ralph the next time you desire another's company, your majesty. He admires you so." Yuuri merely snorted at this.

"That brat holds no devotion to me. It is obvious that he only came here thinking to make a name for himself. Now that Gwendal's authority has left the castle he listens to no one. He is nothing more than a terrible, unruly child." Yuuri growled. Cheri let out a small giggle, shaking her head as if Yuuri didn't understand.

"Oh, your majesty, he is only looking for a bit of attention."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Wolfram gazed upon the destruction he had wrought. Townspeople were fleeing the square, shrieking as buildings burned all around them. Wolfram stood in the center, a few guards lay bleeding at his feet. His strength was failing. He had known that he was past the point of safely being able to use his maryoku, but he had been left with no choice after he had seriously overestimated his own physical endurance. He lifted the sword once more and used it to free his comrade from the guillotine. With the last of his strength gone, Wolfram sank to his knees in the powdery snow.

"Come on, let's get out of here." Wolfram felt steady arms lift him just as he lost consciousness.

When he next opened his eyes, he saw only the dark expanse of the night sky. His throat was parched and his eyes burned when he would shut them. He could hear the soft crackling of a fire nearby. The moon was high above and it was quite late, but Wolfram could make out whispered voices of his companions.

"Not quite according to plan but I suppose it worked out just the same." came the drunken voice of Striker.

"A foolish scheme, if you ask me." commented the deeper voice of Shooter.

"Yeah well no one asked you." There was a snigger from Skinner at this.

"It was reckless to have left your escape in the hands of that boy. Why would you place so much trust in him?"

"He wanted to prove himself, didn't he? I knew he wouldn't let me die. He's just good like that."

"Too good. Rather naïve, in fact." remarked Shooter. The human sighed. "I would've done it, you know."

"Look, as much as I can't stand you, I know that you are the only one whose honor keeps you from just taking the cash as soon as it's put into your hands. Why else do you think you are the only one who handles the money?" Striker admitted grudgingly. Wolfram imagined that the human must have smiled at this, for he would have known it was the truth. There was silence for a few minutes and Wolfram had almost drifted off to sleep once again.

"You can't keep him." said Shooter, quietly. Wolfram had the feeling that two pairs of eyes had shifted over to where he was pretending to sleep. Striker grumbled something incoherent. Shooter continued. "I warned you in the beginning that we should kill him or sell him off. I stand by what I said earlier. It would do you well not to get too attached to him."

"Now see here, you. That boy is mine and if I say he stays, then he stays."

"You Mazoku must be the most pigheaded creatures alive." hissed Shooter. "Has your infatuation with his pretty face caused you to lose your mind? He's not one of us! I suspect that even now that he has wealthy parents or a furious husband from a powerful noble family that has sent an army out to find him. It's dangerous."

Wolfram's initial curiosity at how much the human had learned about him only lasted moment before it was washed away by a feeling of homesickness and misery at the reality that no one was actually looking for him.

Shooter seemed to have calmed down. His next words were spoken much softer.

"Besides, look at the state of him. You know well as I do that we can't feed him. We can't give him the care or the protection that he needs."

"I…you're right." Striker agreed hesitantly after a moment. "It's just…" he let out a small chuckle. "I guess I've gone a bit soft."

There was the sound of the fire being extinguished. No talking ensued. What little light and warmth the fire had offered had now been snuffed out..._a rather accurate metaphor for the future as well,_ thought Wolfram grimly.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Castle security had been increased tenfold since the start of the war. Gwendal had liked to brag that even an intruding bearbee could be detected. However, as the moon made it's early, winter ascent into the starry abyss, Yuuri found it not at all that hard to sneak _out _of the castle. A few well-placed bribes and he was cantering Ao down the streets of his city with his head and face hidden beneath a hood and his cloak whipping behind him.

"I'm afraid it's members only passed this point, Sir." A guard at the door informed Yuuri. Yuuri lowered his hood. The man's eyes widened upon seeing the black hair. "I-I'm terribly sorry, your majesty. Please forgive me." Yuuri swept passed him without a word.

Always, Yuuri had been the prey. He had guards and walls and locks to keep him safe. But tonight, Yuuri was the predator, the hunter in the dark. It felt exhilarating. He found his quarry without trouble. After all, a person using the name 'Wolfram Von Bielefeld' is sure to leave a hot trail.

Yuuri replaced his hood and walked into the dimly lit room. Smoke from an unknown substance hung in clouds around the tables where people were drinking and gambling. Yuuri was finding it increasingly hard to believe that this was the place his wayward _husband _was choosing to escape to whenever he felt like skipping his work at the castle. Yuuri found him sitting in a secluded corner, surrounded by a faction of attractive women whom he seemed to be charming with tales of a made-up childhood.

"…and that was when the dragon showed up and I was forced to fight him off single-handedly." Ralph was saying to his mesmerized audience.

"Oh my. I never knew that being royalty was so dangerous." one of them commented, looking impressed.

"Weren't you terrified, your highness?"

"A little. Particularly after my sword broke. And, please ladies, call me Wolfram." It was after this was said that Yuuri chose to intrude. He did not want to hear any more of the obnoxious conversation.

"Forgive me…_your highness_…" began Yuuri with utmost contempt as he approached the table. " but I should really like to see these swordsmanship skills that you boast about. How about a duel?"

In that moment, as the surrounding clique hooted with laughter at Yuuri's supposed impudence, the king watched the pretty, Bielefeld features of Ralph's appearance transform into a look of complete horror. The conceited smile was removed from his lips and the color drained from his face as his eyes met with Yuuri's. He swore.

Suddenly the table was overturned and people were screaming. Ralph made a break for the exit and Yuuri sprinted after him, taking out those who stood in his path with his water maryoku. The chase didn't last long. Once outside, a tendril of water wrapped around the blonde's ankle and caused him to tumble onto the hard, cobblestone street. Yuuri's heart pounded with excitement as he watched the boy struggle. He noticed that he had attracted much unwanted attention. He hoisted his capture to his feet and ducked into a quiet alleyway to avoid making a scene.

Yuuri threw the frightened young man up against the wall, using one hand to cover his mouth. A mouth, Yuuri didn't fail to notice, that was so very much like Wolfram's.

"Just who do you think can save you? Or have you forgotten who I am?" Yuuri asked in a deadly whisper. It was upon this ungrateful brat that Yuuri could unleash all of his fury.

"N-No, your majesty! Oh God, please don't hurt me. I-I won't do it again!" He cried in a voice that was so eerily similar to Wolfram's. The sound of it made Yuuri's arousal stir to life. Yuuri growled and pressed his groin between Ralph's trembling legs, grinding hard against his heavenly warmth. Immediately, the boy's cheeks colored and he looked away.

"What's wrong? You were so eager to give yourself to me in the past." Yuuri said, securing his victim's wrists above his head and trapping his body between himself and the stone wall. He could feel the boy's frantic breathing.

"H-Here, your majesty?" he asked weakly. The small fearful voice was all the more enticing. Yuuri snarled in response, tearing open the blonde's shirt and looking with disgust upon the blotchy marks left upon his skin by unknown men and women. Yuuri attacked the boy viciously, assaulting him with teeth and a tongue while his fingers slid beneath clothes and abused more sensitive places. The pale, slender body jerked and squirmed at Yuuri's aggressive touches. In time, the boy would come to see that it was no use fighting. Small whimpers, barely stiffled had suddenly become sweet music. Ralph arched his back off of the wall when Yuuri's hand brushed against his crotch. He shivered and his fingers clenched and unclenched as he let sensations both painful and pleasant overwhelm him. Yuuri couldn't help but wonder if Wolfram's body would respond the same way.

…if Wolfram would tense up and let his head fall back.

…if Wolfram would moan just like that.

Yuuri stopped abruptly when something fell on his cheek. He looked up and noticed that Ralph had his eyes shut tightly. Tears leaked out and trailed down his flushed face. Yuuri suddenly realized that the nagging feeling had returned. The nagging feeling that something was missing.

This person was not Wolfram.

_What am I doing?_ Yuuri suddenly asked himself as he looked upon the blonde's terrified face. _He doesn't deserve this,_ Yuuri's conscience whispered in his ear. Yuuri stepped back, releasing the boy and letting him fall to the ground and stare up at him with eyes far too young and innocent to be Wolfram's. The king's heart was racing as he looked upon his own palms, horrified of what he had almost done. He staggered backwards until his back was touching the opposite wall. He stood there, panting, for several minutes.

"Why are you still here?" he barked at Ralph. "Get out of here while you still can, you worthless whore." The boy winced at the harsh words. Slowly, he stood up.

"Your majesty-" Ralph began. Yuuri cut him off with a fit cruel laughter, as if the sound of his own title was the most ridiculous thing in the world. The laughter continued until it had died down to a sadistic chuckle.

"Why do you call me that?" he demanded suddenly in a voice near hysterics. "Don't you hate me? Oh don't worry. I'm starting to think that everyone does, even Shinou himself. Otherwise…" The unnerving smile fell from his lips and he began to caress his right shoulder. "Otherwise things wouldn't be like this." he finished in a constricted voice no louder than a whisper.

Ralph watched as Yuuri unfastened his cloak and began to unbutton his black shirt. The boy gasped when he looked upon his king's bare chest. The moonlight and the light reflecting off of the snowy rooftops was enough to make it visible…the ugly, spidery discoloration upon the man's skin that seemed to be glowing red. It was small, but it already had spread from the shoulder to the chest.

"The curse of Soushu." said Yuuri. "In time, it will consume my body and my mind."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Alas, the most obvious reason for the title.

I'm sorry that this story is so sad all the time. I don't know how it keeps happening.

Anyway please review and if you would like to suggest a baby name (I have one but I want to see if there's anything better) it will be greatly appreciated.


	14. Chapter 13

A/N: I do enjoy writing a nice, filthy man on man sex scene and I must say that I've gotten much better at writing that kind of thing. Unfortunately no one's getting any action since Wolfram's pregnant and all. I promise lots in the future, though.

To my anons:

Mr. me. –Thank you for reviewing. Terribly sorry for the cliffhanger but I gotta keep people interested somehow ;)

Shane- Oh I will explain it…eventually. Thanks so much for the review.

THiaLieN –haha I was wondering if that was gonna freak some people out. No, it's not a frequent thing. Yuuri was just feeling a little lonely and, if I may remind you, he did not actually go through with it.

EarRiel la fFion –I'm happy that I've left you wanting more. It is my job, I guess. Anyway thank you so much for reviewing.

Papapapuffy-Wow! I'm so happy you even considered liking him. This is good because I was hoping to develop him a little more in the future. I guess im going to have to decide if I want people to feel sorry for him or hate him altogether.

Tk04- uh…thanks? They _will_ get together. I promise. Probably sometime within the next chapter.

!!!!- Thanks for the begging. It really turns me on. Lol.

Chapter 13

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

…_the burning of frozen steel against bare flesh._

All sounds were hushed by the surrounding blanket of snow as the metal cuffs closed around Wolfram's wrists. The chains jingled cruelly, as if proclaiming their undiscriminating, binding power over the blonde prince. It was the only noise in the clearing except for the harsh tones of Shooter and another man as they haggled over price some distance away. An obnoxious cackle made Wolfram turn his eyes up from the ground.

"Cheer up. You're only being sold into slavery." giggled Skinner, looking positively gleeful. It was rare to see him excited about anything. He toyed with a knife between frost-bitten fingers. Still smiling, he brought the point of the weapon to Wolfram's bare neck, slowly tracing patterns on the smooth skin.

"A pity." He breathed, shivering as if he could barely contain himself. "I wish we would have drawn sticks to see who'd get to do away with you." He spoke in a slow, sultry voice as he ran his knife blade across skin. "You see, had we done things my way, your delightful face and body would now be carved up by one of my sharp blades. You'd be my…greatest work of art." He crooned as if he were speaking to a precious pet; as if Wolfram could not understand what was being said. "If we'd done things Striker's way," the man chuckled here, "Well, you'd be on your knees choking on his inflated cock. How vulgar."

Wolfram had the urge to spit in the little man's face. A few months ago, he might have done just that. But now, Wolfram doubted if he could summon the strength or the saliva needed. Instead, he remained standing silently in his tired, feverish haze.

Only when Skinner held the knife tauntingly between his eyes, did Wolfram notice the symbol that adorned the handle. It was…strangely familiar.

_White Crow?_

"Where did you get that?!" asked Wolfram, feeling that his heart was once again beating.

"Ah beautiful, isn't she?" the Mazoku's mismatched eyes lit up in adoration. "But she's not mine, she's-"

"Please refrain from touching the merchandise." interrupted Shooter coldly as he approached. He shooed Skinner away with the wave of a hand so that the portly slaver could examine Wolfram with his greedy eyes. Wolfram's gaze never left the knife. Here it was; a clue to this mystery that he had tangled himself into and it was slipping away as fast as it had appeared.

"Wait just a damn secon-" Wolfram began, but he was silenced by a hand over his mouth. His next thoughts were those of indignation as foreign hands inspected his body roughly, pinching, prodding, and creeping into places that were exceptionally private.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" snarled Wolfram once his mouth was free. "Get your disgusting hands off of me." No one seemed to be listening. The slaver released Wolfram after a moment, leaving him feeling dirty and violated.

"Two-hundred." he said as he combed his mustache thoughtfully, continuing to stare at Wolfram although he was obviously speaking to Shooter.

"Two-hundred? I won't be settling for less than one-thousand."

"He's sick. That is a liability. Besides, look at those arms. I need men that can work." the slave trader replied.

"But look at his face. You cannot deny his beauty, even by Mazoku standards. The child will be just as good-looking." argued Shooter.

"Bah! I've been in this business too long to know not to take such a gamble. Five-hundred."

"Eight-hundred."

"Done."

Wolfram could barely contain his fury as the money passed under his nose. Apparently, this bag of coins was a man's worth. He was now officially property. "_Can there be anything lower?" _wondered Wolfram sardonically. And to think a few months ago he had married the king.

Perhaps the most bothersome thought to Wolfram was that he had known that this would happen. Ever since he had overheard their conversation that night, Wolfram had known that it was only a matter of time before they would throw him out. The smart thing to do would have been to run away, but instead he foolishly clung to his hope that his new friends had an ounce of decency in them. Their betrayal, although predicted, did not sting any less.

"It's no use getting yourself worked up over it." Shooter said, noticing Wolfram's animosity.

"The trafficking of Mazoku and/or humans is strictly _prohibited_ within the borders of Shin Makoku and her territories." Wolfram recited angrily. _As if these filth need reminding_!

"An expert on Mazoku law now, are we?"

"You have no idea." Wolfram growled, his eyes darkening. The human had already turned his back on Wolfram and was walking away. "If I wasn't so goddamn pregnant you can bet your sorry ass that you'd be in a ditch somewhere with hungry wolves feasting upon your charred, rotting carcass!" shouted Wolfram viciously. The human stopped in his tracks.

"I don't doubt it." came the quiet reply followed by a small shudder. He resumed walking.

Wolfram was panting. Lately, breathing had become a bit difficult. He was sure his face must be flushed. His head was throbbing, his legs felt weak underneath him. He sent a glare at the only one of the trio left. Striker stepped forward. He didn't say anything, but his eyes betrayed his mixed emotions. He reached out his hand, as if to stroke Wolfram's face, but Wolfram turned away.

"You'll never understand how painful it is to be in your presence." said Striker. "You, a constant reminder of the life we all chose to cast aside, are causing us to feel things that we thought we'd buried long ago. I can't speak for all of us, but I know that I've come to care about you more than I ever thought I could and I've realized that…I don't want you to become like us."

"It is too late." said Wolfram, "From the start, my hands have been far more bloodstained than your own."

"Can I kiss you?"

"If it will make you feel heroic, then by all means, delude yourself."

Wolfram's next breath was cut off as foreign lips closed over his own. One hand wrapped around the small of his back and the other rested upon the bulge of his belly. Far too intimate a gesture for someone whom Wolfram would still call a stranger.

Wolfram had forgotten the warmth of another's touch. He closed his eyes, wanting nothing more than to fall into someone's-anyone's-arms and ignore life altogether. He suppressed a shiver. A prince wasn't supposed to feel this way.

"Leave." commanded Wolfram when he opened his eyes. "May the next time we meet be in Hell."

But, as he watched the three of them depart, Wolfram quelled the urge to shout such things as "Wait! Don't go!" and "Please, take me with you!" but he was a man and he had his pride to keep. Not a sound left his mouth.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

He was confined inside a small wagon with about ten others. Space was limited and the stench was near unbearable. There was very little light coming in from the outside. During the day, silhouettes could be made out, but at night things were pitch black.

The caravan that they were part of seemed to be heading towards the border. It was likely that they were traveling to a human country where Mazoku could be bought and sold legally. After a few days, however, Wolfram had lost track of their direction and, like the rest of the wagon's occupants, had succumbed to the overwhelming hopelessness and no longer cared about his destination.

Water and food were shoved through the door once a day. At first there were scuffles over food distribution as there was never quite enough to go around. Since he had not the energy to demand his portion, Wolfram was soon accustomed to constant, gnawing hunger and a permanent, unquenchable thirst. Wolfram was only able to watch as his fellow inmates turned more and more savage. As the journey took its toll, however, one by one spirits crumbled and existences that might have once been bright and intelligent were reduced to minds of identityless, domesticated animals.

One thing was certain; none of the other unfortunate souls aboard suffered as much discomfort as Wolfram, who was in the final stages of his pregnancy. He had once read that the changes the body undergoes for male Mazoku in their third trimester are painful, but he had never imagined that he'd actually be going through them. It made him dread all the more the pain that was still to come.

In addition, Wolfram could no longer ignore the fact that he was ill. Very ill. What he had thought only to be a simple cold had suddenly become much more dire. He suffered violent fits of coughing and chills that raked through his whole body despite his raging fever. He had never been so sick in his entire life, and it couldn't have come at a worse time.

Days or weeks could have passed but there was little need to keep track of time. Although their prison was dark, the others took notice of Wolfram's condition. No one seemed to have the will to talk anymore but it was an unspoken agreement that they allow Wolfram to sleep in the center where it was warmest.

There was a person; a person whose name, gender, and appearance Wolfram would never know, but who always remained close, often taking Wolfram's head onto his lap and stroking his hair gently during the other's fitful sleep. Sometimes the stranger would hum a sad melody with his soothing voice. Always with the same melody, lonesome and beautiful, that song would invade Wolfram's dreams.

_Leaves from the vine, falling so slow_

_Like fragile tiny shells, drifting in the foam_

_Little soldier boy, come marching home_

_Brave soldier boy, come marching home_

In the dark with no one around to see him or judge him, Wolfram allowed himself to cry. He wondered if he would die; if anyone would remember him…or if he would be gone from the world entirely. He sank deep into the chasm of sorrow with only his worst fears for company.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

When the doors were finally thrown open, Wolfram did not follow the others outside. He might have not been capable of it, he might have not cared. Two men came in after a few minutes.

"This one's not going to make it." Wolfram was grabbed by the hair and forced to look into the face of the vile man who was responsible for his captivity. "Goddamn it!" the man swore. "I spent a fortune on this one too."

"Perhaps you should put a little more effort into their…housing and food." said the second man, looking at their surroundings in disgust. He was quite young, possibly the same age as Wolfram with long, brown hair pulled back and held by a ribbon.

"And what would a lowly healer know of good business?" The slaver demanded. "Shut up and tell me what to do about this." He gestured at Wolfram. The young healer sighed, setting down his bag and coming closer. Pale, green light was emitted from his palm as he touched his hand to Wolfram's chest and abdomen. His eyes were kind and his healing majutsu brought Wolfram's body a bit of relief.

"The bad news is the infection has settled deep in his lungs. I doubt he'll last another week." the healer concluded. "The good news is the child is still alive. If I were to induce labor, the fetus is to the point where it could survive on its own."

"Do it."

"Sir?"

"You heard me. I want it done now."

"He is too weak to give birth now." said the healer.

"He's nearly dead anyway. You can at least save part of my investment. That's what you're paid for." the slaver replied. "Now get to work and call me back in once this mess is over."

The healer turned back to Wolfram reluctantly. The hesitation in his eyes was clear and it became evident to Wolfram that he had never had to make a decision like this before. He began fumbling in his bag for something.

"Please… " Wolfram whispered. "Can you tell me your name?" He wondered if his weak voice was still discernible.

"I'm called Jonathan."

"Jonathan, am I going to die? I need…to know the truth."

"It is…most likely." There was silence for a moment. The desperate prince reached out and took hold of the healer's sleeve with filthy fingers.

"Then, will you grant me a dying wish?"

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Wolfram proceeded to give birth on the dirty, wooden floor, miles away from any of the luxuries he had grown up with. It was an excruciating experience, not at all like the sugar-coated version that parents were known for telling. Joy, happiness…what a complete joke. Instead, there was pain. There was fear. There was blood. There was a wish for death's comforting embrace.

Although during pregnancy Wolfram's body had gone through the necessary transformations to accommodate the birth of a child, the process is still twice as long and hard for a male in comparison to a female. And so, Wolfram's labor continued well into the following night accompanied with much struggle and agony.

When finally the screams of an infant in its first moments of life reached Wolfram's ears, it brought a smile to his lips. He had not the strength to lift his head and look upon the result of his months of hardship. Instead, he closed his eyes and allowed his mind to drift into the black unknown.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

The royal courtyard was covered in patches of melting snow. The sun shone brightly overhead and a single Conrad stands upon the earth had poked its way through the thawing ground. A few brave birds twittered lightly in the trees.

Sparks flew as two long, metal swords clashed together. There, in a contest of strength, the winner was clear. The smaller swordsman was on the defensive. Slash, duck, parry. The two swordsmen were caught in an intricate dance. It wouldn't take a trained eye, however, to see that it was a very one-sided fight.

It wasn't long before the smaller swordsman's weapon went soaring out of his grasp.

"Pick it up." said Yuuri.

"I give up, Your Majesty." the blonde panted. "I know I'm not as good as _him_."

"Nowhere near, in fact. I don't know why you even bother." commented Yuuri as he sheathed his sword. Ralph collapsed in the courtyard's muddy snow, happy for a chance to get his breath back. "I'm going in." Yuuri muttered, already trekking back up to the castle.

The dining room was now a lonely place. The long table sat nearly empty with Gunter teaching most days at their prestigious military academy and Cheri back at sea. By this time, the young king was quite used to dining alone. In fact, he welcomed the solitude in which to brood over his numerous troubles and drown his sorrows in plenty of alcohol. Unfortunately a certain blonde had taken to pestering him at mealtimes.

"It's nearly spring, Your Majesty." mentioned Ralph. Yuuri already knew where the conversation was going.

"So?" grunted the king.

"Sir Voltaire had mentioned that he would be returning to the castle for a short period before the fighting resumes."

"Yeah." said Yuuri. Ralph scowled at Yuuri's lack of interest.

"So I was hoping that you could-"

"No."

"Well maybe we can just-"

"Not a chance." Yuuri drawled in a bored voice.

"Look!" Ralph pounded his fist on the table, knocking over his glass of wine. "What the hell am I supposed to tell Sir Voltaire when it's been months and still there is no hope for an heir? Like it or not, he left me a job to do, you know."

"It's funny when you try to act responsible." hiccupped Yuuri. "Did you rehearse that last night? Because you forgot about the part where I care. Now do me a favor and lick up that mess so Sangria doesn't have to clean it. Go on. Who knows, you might even give me an erection." For a moment, Yuuri saw something dangerous flash through those green eyes, but then it was gone as the boy sighed and leaned over the table.

"If such a thing might awaken your mighty penis, then I guess I have no choice." he spat. Yuuri watched as a pink tongue darted out and began to lap up the red liquid slowly. After a while he added soft, pleasurable moans which caused Yuuri to blush against his better judgment. He picked up his food laden plate and hurled it across the table where it shattered in front of the horny brat.

"You disgust me." Yuuri slurred. Ralph wiped his face clean with a napkin.

"_It's_ bothering you again, isn't it?" he asked quietly. Before Yuuri could issue an angry retort, Dakauscas burst through the dining hall's doors.

"Your Majesty!" he shouted upon entering. He bowed before Yuuri and managed a stiff nod to Ralph before continuing. "A package has arrived for you, Your Majesty."

"Excellent!" boomed Yuuri, happy for the distraction. "Who's it from? Is it a gift?" A second guard entered the room carrying a box. Yuuri frowned after noticing that it was partially open.

"I cannot say, Your Majesty. The deliverer refused to show us his face, but he insisted that it was for the king's eyes only. It could be something dangerous so with your permission I would be happy to-"

"_I_ will open it." asserted Ralph, taking the package into his arms and setting it on the table.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Dakauscas searched his pockets furiously. "The same guy gave me it…said you would know what it meant. Suspicious fellow, if you ask me. Ah here it is."

He held it up. Yuuri's eyes widened at once, for there, twirling slowly from Dakauscas's fingers was the blue pendant with the Wincott crest. The same one that he had imparted to Wolfram half a year ago. Yuuri reached out to take it when suddenly there was a gasp from Ralph.

"What the…hell?" the blonde whispered in disbelief as he peered into the box. Yuuri's stomach dropped. He suddenly understood.

"What is it?" the king asked anyway. When he wasn't answered he walked over and shoved Ralph to the side to have a look himself. His face softened instantly after seeing the sleeping infant. The tiny thing was wrapped heavily in blankets. Only the child's cherubic face and head covered in blonde fuzz were visible. Yuuri reached in and gently lifted the baby from its warm nest. The child stirred in its sleep, opening his eyes for a brief moment to study his new surroundings. Two cerulean orbs stared at Yuuri with wonder.

"I think congratulations are in order." said Yuuri as he slowly turned to face the others. "I give you…the royal heir."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Please review! Extra points to the reviewer who can guess where the song is from :)


	15. Chapter 14

A/N: Let me just say that I have been dying to write this chapter. Lots of blood and angst and rape (sort of). I didn't plan to go without updating for so long. First I got swine flu and then I got pneumonia, which is really ironic since that was pretty much what Wolfram was dying of last chapter. If this isn't the work of some higher power, I don't know what is.

A HUGE thanks to Tarshil for being my superbeta. She courageously swooped in and saved me from my writers block and then beta-ed this chapter all while giving me tons of advice on how to improve. From now on you must all bow to _her._

To my anons:

Aquarianleo- yay! Isn't avatar the greatest? Thanks so much for your review

Chia- the song _is_ from avatar. Good job. Of course Wolfram isn't dead yet, silly reviewer. There is so much that still needs to happen.

Kindness in a can- thanks for the review. Don't worry, Wolfie is too important to die

Anon- yes the song is from avatar. I wasn't expecting this many people to recognize it. Thanks for the review

Silver- I agree. Well I guess it is my fault for being so evil

Lady_Chicobo- Maybe this chapter will help mend your broken heart

OrangePink- I take so long to update because I write when I feel like it. If I forced myself to write then this story wouldn't be half as good as it is. Thanks for the review.

Chapter 14

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

_The sky was a serene blue; the kind one might see on a lazy summer day with small, wispy clouds drifting in and out of sight. An endless sea of amber rye rose from the ground and swayed in the warm breeze._

_Wolfram walked along a narrow dirt path until he came to a small pond. There, sitting upon the grassy shore was a person all too familiar. Her blue tresses hung loosely at her sides as a delicate hand gently combed the smooth surface of the water. Her unseeing eyes stared knowingly ahead._

"_Wolfram," she breathed softly, a note of surprise in her voice. "Have you finished your studies so early?" She smiled and patted the grass next to her. "Come and sit with me for a while." Wolfram sat with the tips of his toes at the water's edge. He did not ask where they were or why they were there. Somehow he just knew._

_Time passed as they sat in silence._

"_Julia…" Wolfram began after an eternity, "is this how I am supposed to feel?"_

"_And how do you feel?"_

"_Uneasy…like there is something important that I have forgotten," he answered. Julia's beautiful face fell into a frown._

"_I have been selfish," she admitted. "You shouldn't be here yet. It is not your time." _

_Wolfram nodded in agreement. He stood up, already anxious to return. The wind ruffled his blonde bangs and he lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the sunlight. He began walking back along the path that had brought him to this strange place._

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Murata sighed and put the old book back on the shelf gently. Nothing. He could reread old notes and journals, he could revert into his massive archive of memories from previous lives and yet he could not see where he had screwed up.

One memory…one life was fuzzy. He could remember a voice here and there, a smell, a touch, and yet he could not remember his name, who he had known, or what he had been doing. The life was fleeting compared to the expansive Mazoku lives he had lived, so he concluded that he must have been a human. It was somewhere within this broken memory that the secret was buried. The answer should be here, right in his own head…and yet it was not.

Frustrated with himself, Murata stood up and left his room. The halls were still cold. The spring days had yet to reach this remote territory. The temple Murata had inhabited for a few weeks now was quite large, but mostly abandoned. The few priestesses that remained had devoted themselves completely to serving Shinou and had not left the temple in decades. When not running errands for Murata, they absorbed themselves in prayer.

One of them, Saki her name was, met Murata in the corridor.

"His Holiness has awakened," she informed the Great Sage before bowing and continuing on her way.

Murata let himself in the room without knocking but the single occupant seemed not to care. He remained leaning against the window, basking in the sunlight. For a moment, Murata held his breath. Truly, Wolfram was a beautiful creature. Even though his hair had yet to regain its golden sheen and his body was still far from properly nourished, a more gorgeous man could not presently be in existence. Perhaps this was the reason the prince had been the chosen vessel.

"It's good to see you awake, Bielefeld-kyo." Murata greeted. Green eyes shifted slowly over to where he stood. This was the first time since they had parted that Murata was able to look into those eyes and he was disappointed. There was no light in those green irises. They were dull…hardened. They had seen death.

"Had you awoken a few days later you might have found yourself underground. It is nothing short of a miracle that you have survived," Murata informed him curtly. Wolfram stepped away from the window slowly on trembling legs. His eyes downcast, he got on his knees and prostrated himself before Murata.

"Forgive me," Wolfram responded hoarsely, "I cannot accept your kindness. I do not deserve to be called "holy". I am guilty of murder and theft. I have succumbed to pride and to lust. I have neglected…" Wolfram lifted his head as tears spilled out of his eyes, "a child of my very own flesh."

Murata sighed. It had all been too much for the young prince. He walked over to where the small body was curled up and knelt beside him, wondering how much physical contact would be appropriate. He pulled the sobbing blonde into a gentle embrace.

"Why didn't you come for me?"choked Wolfram, burying his face in the Great Sage's chest. "So many times I could have used your wisdom. It's not like I had ever gone through any of this. I didn't think that it was going to be so difficult. Being pregnant…and alone."

"I realize now that it was a mistake to leave you on your own, Wolfram. But you must understand that I was only looking out for your safety. I too have been isolated these past few months," replied Murata gravely. "My work has kept me constantly on the run. For a while, I cut off all contact with Shibuya and your brothers because I feared my meddling would put them in danger. Also, I have been traveling quite a bit in order to gather information."

"Take me with you this time!" Wolfram begged, his fingers gripping the sage's shirt tightly. "I don't want to be alone anymore. You're the only one I have."

Murata smiled and answered, "I had no intention of leaving you behind, Wolfram. As soon as you are well I was hoping that you would accompany me to my new research base in Big Shimaron."

"Big…Shimaron?" hiccupped Wolfram.

Murata's eyes darkened. "That's where it all seems to be happening. But before you and I leave this stage for good, I believe one last appearance is in order," the Great Sage said. From his pocket he withdrew a sheet of paper.

"The castle is holding a party to celebrate the birth of the prince."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

For the first time in months, the kingdom was in celebration. The capital city of Shin Makoku was alight with festivities to welcome the birth of the royal heir when Wolfram entered the city gates in the Great Sage's carriage. The citizens were drunk and merry, singing praises to their kingdom once again and pushing the anxieties of war to the backs of their minds while raising their glasses to the newborn prince.

Wolfram's head slipped off of his hand as he nearly fell asleep. He snapped up again at once, annoyed that his body felt tired and weak all the time. His earlier apprehension about returning home seemed to have taken a significant toll on his limited strength. Murata looked at him, concerned.

"Are you sure you are well enough for this, Wolfram?" Wolfram merely glared at his companion while fixing his wig.

"Why can't I use my maryoku?" the prince asked, "I am no longer pregnant. Shouldn't it have returned by now?"

"It will not come back for some time still. Your body's main purpose now is caring for a baby. Why would it waste energy on maryoku?"

"How will I defend myself?" Wolfram wondered.

"That is the job of your mate," the sage answered simply.

"And if I don't have one?"

"Then you are left considerably more vulnerable. Most Mazoku can sense when another's maryoku is weakened. A mate's job is to mask their partner with their own maryoku. Since you have none, I suggest you avoid the other party guests, unless you wish to be warming a stranger's bed this evening," Murata advised. Wolfram scowled.

"I've only come for one reason and it doesn't involve old, horny men."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

The castle grounds were lit by moonlight. Wolfram sauntered through the shadows, moving quickly so he wouldn't be discovered by the patrolling guards. The party inside was in full-swing. All ten of the ruling families were in attendance, Wolfram already noticed. Even Conrad and Gwendal had returned to the country early to celebrate. Everyone wanted to lay their eyes on the long awaited heir. Wolfram was no exception.

He looked up at the great stone towers above. Somehow, he needed to get up onto the second floor but security was sure to be tight. He couldn't scale the wall so he'd have to get in through one of the first floor windows. Where? The kitchen? Or perhaps the bathroom?

Footsteps on the grass caught Wolfram's attention. He sank down into budding branches to wait for the newcomer to pass. The figure slowed its stride and came to a stop mere feet from Wolfram's hiding spot. Wolfram was sure the rapid pounding of his heart must have given him away.

"Show yourself…_intruder_," the voice ordered. Slowly, Wolfram rose from the bushes. "Who are you?" the silhouette demanded as he drew his sword and pointed it at the prince's throat, "If you answer correctly, I may just let you leave here alive." Wolfram's lips curled into a smile.

"Well, well. Aren't you a big boy these days, Ralphie," Wolfram breathed as he stepped out of the shrubbery, "And to think for a moment you almost had me frightened…" Wolfram laughed. Ralph stiffened at the insult. In his left hand, he conjured a flame and illuminated both of their faces.

"Wolfram," he snarled with disgust. "I told you not to call me that anymore." The tip of his sword pricked the sensitive flesh underneath Wolfram's chin as Ralph studied him. "You are so much like your whore of a mother."

"Rude and arrogant as ever. I see that growing up in the Bielefeld house has taught you that it's perfectly fine to offend royalty. It's quite scary…the way they indoctrinate young, innocent minds," Wolfram said smoothly, using a finger to push away the tip of the other's sword.

"Royalty?" Ralph took a step closer, chucking softly. "You see, my dear cousin, that is where you are wrong. _You _are nobody. His Majesty is _my_ husband now." Another step. "Your friends, your family…" Another step. "This castle…this country… they all belong to me." He was close enough to whisper into Wolfram's ear, "The child that is asleep upstairs…is _mine._" Wolfram bristled and drew his sword.

"If your wish was to provoke me, then you have done a fair job," Wolfram snarled. "Certainly you have all my assets, and my very own son might one day be forced to call you "father", but you will never have Yuuri's love."

A streak of fury flashed through Ralph's green eyes, but he was able to hide it with a wide smile. He removed the stylish hat that he had been wearing to conceal part of his face from prying eyes and reached up to remove Wolfram's dark wig as well.

"Oh but that's only a matter of time as well,_ Wolfie_," he laughed lightly as he toyed for a moment with Wolfram's soft hair, "After all, no man can resist you," he sidled up to Wolfram, placing his free hand delicately on Wolfram's chest and exhaling contently, "…and I so happen to be a younger, prettier version of you."

Wolfram shoved the boy away from him and held out his sword threateningly.

"Younger, perhaps. Prettier? In your dreams, boy. Go take another look in the mirror," scoffed Wolfram. "Now why don't we settle this like men: with our swords."

Ralph lunged forward without warning, striking Wolfram's sword hard. With Wolfram in his weakened state, their strength was evenly matched. Ralph launched a particularly hard series of blows and forced Wolfram to take a few steps back.

"Your brothers like me better, just like your father always has. It won't be long before His Majesty does too," Ralph panted. Wolfram slashed furiously, reversing their positions.

"Last time I checked, my brothers said that you were in need of a good thrashing," Wolfram sneered. Ralph scowled and attacked with renewed vigor, perhaps sensing that Wolfram's stamina was low. Without verbal abuse issuing from their mouths, the duel took a more serious turn. It wasn't at all like the playful spars they had as kids. Honor was no longer the only thing at stake here. Ralph was fighting to kill and Wolfram found, with a small jolt of surprise, that he was as well.

"They never told me what had happened to you, but I figured you wouldn't die so easily!" the pseudo Prince Consort shouted desperately as his steel met with Wolfram's. "I knew you must have done something horrible to merit banishment, but His Majesty never speaks a word about you, no matter how much I ask." They broke apart for a moment. Wolfram panted heavily and Ralph shook his head dismissively. "I guess it doesn't matter. His Majesty's broken heart says it all. You've betrayed him, haven't you?" Wolfram continued to glare, but gave no answer. Ralph let out a frustrated howl and rushed forward. With their swords locked, Ralph was able to force his older counterpart to the ground.

"Do you have any idea how much grief you've caused him? You're the source of all his suffering!" Ralph said between gritted teeth, "Oh, I'm glad that you've returned, cousin. This way, I'll be able…TO KILL YOU MYSELF!"

Before the point of Ralph's weapon was able to pierce his chest, Wolfram caught the sword in his left hand. His eyes squeezed tight as the sharp blade cut through his gloved palm and sliced deeply into the calloused skin beneath. Quickly getting over the discomfort, Wolfram impaled his own sword in his cousin's gut, hearing the sickening squelch and feeling the warm blood rushing swiftly down his arm.

The younger man's mouth dropped open in surprise as he attempted to comprehend what had just occurred. He let out a choking breath as blood began to trickle from his lips. His green eyes flickered up to meet Wolfram's and he let out a defeated whimper.

"You didn't mean it…right…Ni-sama?" his voice shook. It was the adorable face from Wolfram's childhood that spoke to him. Wolfram's eyes suddenly widened fearfully. He withdrew his sword roughly. He had done it. He could not take it back. Overcome with jealousy, a person could sometimes do stupid things. Dangerous things. Like mortally wounding the king's husband on the castle's lawn.

He knew he had to flee. Time was short now and Wolfram knew he had overstayed his welcome, but before he was even able to sheathe his messy sword, something wet enveloped his entire body and hoisted him into the air. Below, several castle guards had encircled him and had their spears pointing up at him.

"_Unforgiveable_!"

Wolfram ceased his struggling as that voice sent chills down his spine. It was _him._ Wolfram's eyes sought out the eerie blue glow of his silhouette. Slowly he approached the suspended Wolfram, angry maryoku radiating from his erect form while his water dragons coiled threateningly around the prince's body. He looked like he was in his Maou form, and yet he was not. His eyes were cold and piercing as they caught Wolfram's.

"Just how many murders will it take to satisfy your bloodlust?" the king hissed.

"Yuu-" Wolfram choked. The water vine around his neck tightened and compressed his airway.

"You enter my castle uninvited and you proceed to injure a member of the Royal family after being ordered never to return to this place again. Does your wickedness know no bounds?" the Maou said. Wolfram's vision was spinning. He could not breathe. A minute passed before Wolfram was released completely. On the ground, gasping for breath, Wolfram watched Yuuri walk over to Ralph and pick up the broken body gently.

"Lock him in my chambers. I will deal with him later." Yuuri said, gesturing toward Wolfram. He turned his back on them and began to head toward the castle, leaving a trail of red droplets behind.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"Conrad," said Wolfram softly as his brother led him up the stairs to the royal chambers. The half-human said nothing, but his grip on Wolfram's arm tightened. "Conrad, speak to me," the blonde pleaded. His brother did not even spare him a glance. They reached the doors and Wolfram was thrown inside.

"_Conrart!_" Wolfram yelled, his voice echoing in the room and the hall as he threw himself against the doors before they could be shut.

"I'm sorry Wolfram," said the brunette with sad eyes, "His Majesty had forbid me- forbid all of us- from talking with you. Please wait here for him quietly." The doors shut and Wolfram found himself alone. He sat on the bed and waited. Wolfram had not come to this gathering to see his husband or brothers. He had not come to reveal himself or wreak havoc. He had not come simply for the hell of it. He was here to look upon the face of the child he had given birth to, the culmination of his sins. All he wanted was one look, one touch if he could, and then he might be satisfied. Then he might be able to sleep peacefully.

A half hour later, the doors opened. Yuuri stepped inside, still dressed in his party clothes except now there was an enormous red stain down the front. Wolfram stood up as Yuuri walked over to him. This atmosphere…this aura was not the Yuuri that Wolfram remembered. This Yuuri was not a naïve and clumsy idiot. He was mature and confident. He was in-control. He was…Wolfram shuddered…_a man_. His very presence exuded sexuality. He reached out and Wolfram flinched.

"Are you frightened of me, Wolfram?" There was a pause in which only Wolfram's heavy breathing could be heard.

"Hn. How could I be frightened by a hennachoko like you?" was Wolfram's trembling lie. He chose to stare out the window instead of at his former beloved.

"Give me your hand." It was an order.

Wolfram cautiously placed his injured hand in Yuuri's and watched as his king's healing majutsu knit muscle and flesh back together. When the job was done Wolfram attempted to pull his hand away, but Yuuri refused to let go. The blonde prince made a small sound of protest as Yuuri drew his body against his own. His free hand crept up into Wolfram's hair and he forced the blonde to look at him. Wolfram felt his knees go weak from the intensity of his husband's gaze. His palms pushed against Yuuri's hard chest, but Yuuri held him tightly until he gave in. When he spoke, his voice was husky and caused a burning blush to creep into Wolfram's cheeks.

"I know why you came here tonight, Wolfram. Would you still like to see him?"

"Yuu-ri…" Wolfram breathed. His eyes were shut and he waited for Yuuri's hands to caress him. Instead he was released.

"Come with me."

They traveled silently down the hall until they reached the nursery doors. Wolfram followed Yuuri into the room. The moonlight illuminated the cradle that stood in the center and Wolfram was unable to resist the lure. Yuuri remained standing by the door while Wolfram approached it.

Wolfram felt his heart rise to his throat at once. He gazed upon the tiny child, sleeping innocently and wrapped in the softest of blankets, and felt strange emotions well up in him; emotions that he had never felt before. He reached into the crib, but stopped himself when he noticed that his gloves were covered in dried blood. He couldn't touch something so pure with such dirty hands. Wolfram sighed and removed his ruined gloves before reaching back in. The baby whimpered after being disturbed, but Wolfram held him close and cuddled him until he fell back asleep. It felt so good to be able to finally hold the infant in his arms. His own flesh and blood.

Wolfram had been worried that his recklessness during pregnancy might have caused harm to the baby, but now all of his fears could be put to rest. Everything about him seemed healthy and no damage had been done. Tears of relief prickled at the edge of his vision and he willed them to go away so that he could continue to look at his son clearly.

Blonde hair…blue eyes…he would grow up to look just like that portrait hanging in the hall.

Wolfram noticed that his arms were trembling violently. He gently lowered the infant back into the warm layers of blankets. He let his fingertips brush against the smooth skin of that perfect, angelic face and wondered why the simple act of procreation could provoke such strong feelings in a person. Wolfram suddenly had the urge to take the child and run. He was _his_ baby. Wolfram wanted to be there for him; to raise him and care for him all on his own. Wolfram withdrew his hand and continued to stare with cloudy vision at the life he had given birth to.

"His name is Shinou," Wolfram said softly to the dark room. Behind him, Yuuri stirred. Wolfram heard his husband walk up to him and could feel his hot breath on the back of his neck as he spoke.

"A rather important name for a bastard child."

"It's fitting for a prince…your own heir, no less."

"I suppose…" Yuuri purred. He was so close. Wolfram tilted his head to one side, waiting for the feel of Yuuri's lips on his neck. It never came. Instead, hands crept around Wolfram's waist. One trailed up to his chest and the other settled on his stomach. "You're so beautiful, Wolfram," the king whispered, "I hate it." He spun the blonde around to face him. Wolfram resented the fact that his eyes had been taken off of the sleeping baby. He stole a glance over his shoulder. Yuuri grabbed Wolfram's chin and forced his eyes to return to his husband's.

"You've given him enough attention," Yuuri growled, "I want to be the only one you need to think about." His lips met Wolfram's and his tongue wandered inside, tasting what he had denied himself for so long. Wolfram let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding when Yuuri pulled their bodies together in a crushing embrace. Yuuri's fingers danced along his spine, making Wolfram's skin erupt in goose bumps and causing him to arch further up against his king's chest. Wolfram let out a strangled moan when Yuuri's mouth was on his neck, sucking and biting with ravenous hunger.

"This is what you do to me," Yuuri rasped, grabbing the blonde's hips and pressing the bulge of his pants against Wolfram. His hands found their way underneath Wolfram's shirt and he began to feel the smooth skin beneath it. Wolfram's face was flushed heavily as he attempted to resist Yuuri's eager touches. All he cared about right now was the baby asleep in the cradle. Yuuri noticed immediately.

"Enough of these distractions!" the king scowled as he threw his husband over his shoulder unceremoniously, "I _will_ have you tonight whether you like it or not." Wolfram let his body go limp as Yuuri marched them out the door and back into the royal bedroom. He was dumped on the bed in a heap. Yuuri began to tear the clothes off his body.

"_Why? Why is he doing this?" _Wolfram wondered_, "Is it me? Have _I_ turned him into this…monster?"_

"Stop it, Yuuri!" Wolfram cried, finally getting a hold of himself. His next words were muffled by his husband's lips and he shivered as Yuuri's hands began to caress his naked skin. The king moaned softly. His fingers wandered down to Wolfram's crotch to tease his stiff manhood. Wolfram gasped and his fingers twisted into the bed sheets as his traitorous body expressed its desire for attention. His blush deepened, making his face feel hot. His empty protests turned into shameful whimpers and pleas as Yuuri's hand began to move up and down over engorged flesh.

"How many have seen you like this before?" Yuuri wondered aloud, ceasing his movements and kneeling over a very aroused Wolfram. After taking in Wolfram's flushed features and helpless expression, his face hardened into a scowl. "I hate you, Wolfram. I hate you and yet when I think of you with another man, I go mad." Yuuri's eyes darkened. "You are going to tell me all of your secrets tonight, Wolfram. We'll start with the reason you betrayed me." Wolfram didn't answer. Yuuri backhanded him.

"_Why now?" _thought Wolfram_, "He never thought to ask me while he held me prisoner. How long has this been eating away at him? I can't tell him. He wouldn't understand. He wouldn't understand that I love him more than all the people of Shin Makoku."_

"I…I would never betray you, Yuuri," Wolfram whispered, holding his stinging face, "At this point, there is nothing I can say to placate you. All I can offer is a promise that someday I will be able to tell you." Yuuri's face remained hard with his black eyes unreadable. He decided to move on.

"Who is the child's father?" Yuuri demanded, his arm raised threateningly, "I will find the man, castrate him, and lock him away for the rest of his miserable life."

"Then you needn't worry. He is already dead," Wolfram replied desperately. Yuuri narrowed his eyes.

"You're lying." He pinched a nipple.

"Ngh. No Yuuri! What reason could I possibly have to lie to you now?"

"Why, indeed?" Yuuri said, coating his fingers in oil and prying Wolfram's thighs apart. Wolfram didn't want to be taken like this. He was tired. He felt sick. He let those fingers invade him anyway and thought about how he could never really deny his Yuuri anything. He bit back a moan that threatened to spill from his lips.

While Yuuri continued to stretch him, Wolfram reached up and attempted to unbutton his king's shirt. Yuuri slapped his hand away. He stood up and took off his pants instead. Wolfram's eyes momentarily strayed to Yuuri's erect penis and he shivered. Suddenly, Yuuri was on top of him again. He could feel his heartbeat as their chests strained against each other. Yuuri's body emanated heat and maryoku, overwhelming Wolfram's senses and causing his mind to go blank.

"The next child you bear will be mine," Yuuri commanded. Wolfram could only cling to him in response, thinking solely of his husband's cock pushing against his entrance. It came as a relief when Yuuri buried himself inside. His arms wrapped around the blonde, establishing a merciless pace, while Wolfram spread his legs, giving in to his lover's heat. Yuuri's hands slid over Wolfram's hips and buttocks before taking his smooth thighs in a bruising grip, making the man beneath him writhe and tousle his silky blonde hair against the pillows.

It seemed as though a fire had been lit inside Wolfram's body and with each thrust, he voiced his pleasure. His nails dug into his husband's back as he gripped the man like his life depended on it. He gasped and moaned and lifted his hips to meet his king's intense lovemaking. The times where Yuuri obliged him with a kiss, Wolfram made sure they remained lip-locked until the need for air tore them apart.

The pressure between them was building. Their breathing came in uneven, lustful pants as they grasped at what little sanity they had left. Nothing was more arousing than the thought of their bodies joined in the most intimate of ways. Fully exposed was their lust…their complete desire for one another. The heat, the friction, and the emotion were more than could be withstood.

Sweat coated their skin. Yuuri continued to roll his hips, causing Wolfram to tremble and shudder while his love forcefully claimed his body. So strong was their passion that Wolfram couldn't stop the tears that formed behind his eyelids.

"Yuuri…" Wolfram whimpered, "I'm going to…" Wolfram threw back his head as his body seized with orgasm almost painfully. His nails clawed his husband's back desperately and his muscles clamped tightly around Yuuri's swollen manhood. Above him, Yuuri tensed. He stilled with one final, deep thrust and released his essence into his husband's hot body. Together they rode out the last waves of pleasure and collapsed panting with limbs still entangled.

"I love you, Yuuri," the prince breathed softly, his face streaked with tears.

"I know you do, Wolfram," the king responded, equally soft. He wrapped his arms around his husband and drifted off to sleep.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.


	16. Chapter 15

A/N: Sorry for my long absence. Real life got in the way. It really sucks how it tends to do that, ne? If I could I would just live in my own fantasy world for the rest of my days. This time I want to ask a favor of all of my reviewers. If you could, please tell me…tell the world why you like this site. What do you like about it? Why is it a _good_ thing to write fanfiction?

To my anons:

Papapapuffy- Don't count Ralph out just yet.

Kindness in a can- lol. I won't die. Not until I finish this fanfiction.

Silver- I can see the suspense is killing you. So many possibilities…

Emina- Yes I've really warped Yuuri's personality for this fic. Without a little angst and aggression, I can't really see Yuuri as seme.

Orangepink- glad that I was able to satisfy you. Sorry it took so long.

Arlensienta-21- lol. Unfortunately, my drawing skills aren't that great. That is why I'm stuck writing fanfiction

No Name- Something is wrong with all of us. Don't ever let them try to fix you.

Chapter 15

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Time stood still.

Moonlight crept into the window of the royal chambers. A disgruntled king sat upon its stone sill, pensive, black eyes drinking in the eerie blue light.

Wolfram watched the man from the bed, his green irises wide with unease. The sun was still hours away from rising and it seemed that neither man was willing to waste the remaining darkness in blissful slumber. There were too many thoughts, too many issues that created an invisible barrier of silence between them.

Wolfram sat up and let the silk sheets slide off his slim frame. He wanted nothing more than to ease his king's troubles, and yet he himself was the cause of them. The blonde prince crept slowly to the window and locked eyes with his husband.

"I can't stay with you," said Wolfram.

"We both knew that," responded Yuuri, "There are things…that must be done."

"Will you take care of my child? Love him as your own?"

Yuuri grunted and turned his eyes back out the window. Wolfram was unsure if that was a "yes" but Yuuri was his only option. Wolfram cautiously sat down next to his husband. He had a feeling Yuuri was hiding something from him but it wouldn't be right for him to ask. Not after retaining all of his own secrets.

Instead, Wolfram reached out and took hold of the collar of Yuuri's shirt. The king snarled and grabbed the thin wrist before it could reach his buttons.

"You want to see?" he asked darkly, "You really want to see, Wolfram?"

"I've already seen your ugliness," replied Wolfram, "Months of frustration and failures have ruined you, or rather, the man I once knew." Yuuri held his gaze for a moment, then slowly released his husband's bruised wrist. Wolfram's hands were steady as they unbuttoned and pulled back the black shirt. He winced after a few minutes of looking upon the repulsive discoloration.

"This is…a curse?" whispered Wolfram, his brow furrowing in concern, "Yuuri, it's all over your chest! You must see Ulrike right away! A curse like this can…can kill you…" he trailed off. Everything made sense now. This curse was the true enemy. It heightened all of Yuuri's negative emotions and smothered all his good ones. It explained Yuuri's abusiveness…his sudden bloodlust and desire for war.

Wolfram wanted to cry. Yuuri was hurt in many ways. History…was repeating.

"This is my problem, Wolfram. I can take care of it myself," the king answered shortly, after noticing Wolfram's expression. His black eyes, previously occupied observing the dark courtyard, had turned to Wolfram once again. They swept over his body, his legs, his arms. Wolfram would have been doing the same at this point, if not for the ivy like curse staining his beloved's skin. The prince crawled onto the window sill and into his husband's warm embrace. Outside, a bird began to chirp softly. A few minutes later, it was joined by its mate and their songs made perfect harmony.

"I promised to wake with the morning birds," Wolfram said quietly.

"They are owls," Yuuri replied with conviction, beginning to kiss the blonde's neck. Wolfram let out a sigh and disentangled himself. His clothes, lying in a heap on the floor, were ripped and bloody. They were ruined. When he looked up, he noticed Yuuri had gone into his closet and taken something out. They were black clothes. Ornate with fancy buttons and lace, complete with shoulder tassels. It was a traditional outfit for one wedded to the Maoh. Yuuri held them up with an expressionless gaze.

"Wear these. Tonight, and tonight only, you are my husband once again," said Yuuri. After a moment, Wolfram nodded, decidedly. He took the garments from Yuuri, his hands closing firmly on the expensive material. He dressed quickly and stood tall.

"I will clear my name," he announced, "When that day comes, I will return for good and take my rightful place beside you." Wolfram returned to the window and put one foot on the sill. He looked back at his beloved Yuuri. "Until then…take care of Shinou."

He leaped out the window before Yuuri could say anything. The king walked over, put his hands on the sill, and peered into the morning greyness. He saw nothing.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A dense fog hovered low to the ground as Wolfram ran silently through the courtyard. Most of the castle's occupants were still asleep, and Wolfram's goal was to make it out before he was noticed by anyone.

Murata's carriage was gone. He must have decided to leave the party early. He had said earlier that his only reason in coming was to drop off Wolfram…and get drunk, and perhaps get a glimpse of the baby while at the party.

The stables were unguarded, strangely enough, and Wolfram wondered if it would be a crime to steal one's own horse. He darted behind the hay bales and from there, into the barn. It was dark inside. Ao noticed him first and let out a snort. Wolfram shushed him and continued down the aisle.

"Hold it right there, ni-sama."

Through the darkness, Wolfram could make out a silhouette. His feet stopped. Ralph stood a few yards ahead, his back to Wolfram. He was shirtless and bandages covered his torso.

"Did you enjoy yourself last night?" the younger blonde continued in his mockingly smooth voice, "Tell me, did you suck his cock? Or did the two of you straight-out fuck."

Wolfram didn't take the bait. This morning, his concern was running deeper than his anger. "Ralph," began Wolfram slowly, "You shouldn't be out here, think of your injuries."

"Yes they were quite serious, I'm told. Poor Gisela spent all night on me. It makes me wonder why you didn't just finish the job," he answered maliciously. Wolfram took a step back. Perhaps he would leave on foot instead. He couldn't afford another royal scuffle.

"Ah, ah. Didn't I tell you not to move? You wouldn't want me to hurt _him_ now would you?" Ralph finally turned around. In one arm, he held Shinou. In the other, he held a knife. Wolfram froze.

"You know," Ralph said calmly, "I've thought about this for a long time and I think I've finally discovered your secret,"

"Ralph, I-"

"His Majesty kicks you out, hires me in your place, and then, six months later, a baby shows up on the castle's doorstep. Suspicious, don't you think?" asked Ralph. Wolfram clamped his mouth shut as he stared at the knife pointed at his son.

"You were fucking someone else, weren't you?" Wolfram remained silent. "WEREN'T YOU?" Shinou, suddenly roused from his sleep, began to cry. The knife drew closer.

"NO! Please, Ralph! Don't do this!" Wolfram gasped, helpless, "He's only a baby!"

"So you _do_ care about your little bastard, then." Ralph attempted to laugh, but it must have been too painful.

"You're right! You're right about everything," Wolfram admitted, "Now please put the knife away, you're scaring him."

Both of them stared at each other while Shinou cried in the background. Ralph had his answers. That was all he wanted. That was all he came for. He threw the knife away.

"You know something, cousin? You absolutely _disgust_ me." He turned around and began rocking the baby back to sleep. "Take the fucking horse. You'll be back someday, I'm sure. Maybe then I'll have the skills needed to kill you," he paused for a moment. "And, out of the pure kindness of my heart, I will watch over this…er…thing. Only, _only, _because he is a Bielefeld, and Bielefelds need to be raised in the proper tradition…something _you_ would know nothing about."

Wolfram didn't understand. Perhaps he couldn't believe what he had just heard. Ralph was…offering to raise Shinou in his absence? At least that was what Wolfram thought he was hearing. Ralph was tapping his foot impatiently now.

"Get going. I only want to see your ugly face for as long as I have to." Ralph said viciously. Wolfram shook himself out of his stupor and began to tack up his horse as quickly as possible. Once the bridle was on, he wasted no time swinging up into the saddle and with one last peak over his shoulder, rode swiftly out of the barn and galloped straight through the castle's mysteriously open gates.

A ways down the narrow forest road, Wolfram's horse balked and refused to move forward. There was a noise from within the brush. A chestnut horse appeared carrying a man in dressed all in black. He joined Wolfram on the main path, a smirk forming on his face.

"Have a fun night?" the Great Sage snickered, "Did Shibuya treat you well?"

Wolfram shrugged the man off and continued along the path, not questioning the sage's appearance. "So…where to?" Wolfram asked.

"The harbor," Murata answered, "There's a boat waiting for us there."

"To Big Shimaron?"

"Of course. We do have some crows to hunt, after all."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Ao stomped his hooves in anticipation. They were freshly shod; his coat was freshly brushed and the armor sat heavily on his body. He was an older horse. He knew the signs. It brought him back to his younger days.

He was going to battle.

"The troops are ready, Your Majesty," Conrad announced, "It is time to leave."

Yuuri nodded slowly and set his helmet on his head with a harsh shove. He eased Morgif into his sheath while staring at his majestic reflection in the mirror. He then turned to his most loyal subject. "Let us ride, Conrad."

Ao whinnied loudly upon seeing Yuuri. The gate stood open, ready for an army to set off. Suddenly, Yuuri felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turned around and found himself buried within Cheri's generous bosom.

"Are you too much of a man now to say good-bye to your mother-in-law?" she whined, her eyes filling with tears.

"Perhaps," was Yuuri's answer. He extracted himself after a moment. Behind Cheri stood Ralph, a bundle of blankets in his arms. He seemed quite distraught and yet his Bielefeld pride still shone through while he held his chin high.

"And what of your husband?" the blonde asked. Yuuri stepped forward so that he could peek into the nest of blankets. Shinou was awake. His blue eyes were alert as he took in the outside world around him. He let out a squeal of delight when he noticed Yuuri. The king could not help but smile. In the few months that they had been together, he had grown very fond of the child who was not his own. Yuuri leaned down and placed a kiss on his son's nose. When he stood up again, he noticed Ralph wet his lips nervously.

"Kiss me," the blonde demanded.

Yuuri burst out into a fit of cruel laughter. "You wish." The boy looked heartbroken and Yuuri did not apologize. Instead he turned around and mounted his horse. They all stood, ready now…his soldiers and his family…waiting for their king's order.

Yuuri stared for a moment at Cheri, Ralph, and Shinou. They all had something in common. Wolfram's emotions, Wolfram's body, Wolfram's blood…

"_But they are not Wolfram_," the king reminded himself, "_They are merely my perverse collection of things that are almost Wolfram."_

Yuuri frowned. His spurs jammed into Ao's sides.

"MOVE OUT!"

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A/N: Not much of a chapter, I suppose. Think of it more as a prelude into the second part of this story. Anyway remember to include in your review why you like fanfiction and yaoi.


	17. part 2 chapter 16

A/N: Sorry that I didn't reply to some of your reviews.

To my anons: There were a lot of you. Thanks so much for reviewing.

Part 2 Chapter 16

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Through stained glass windows shone only the night. The air inside the room was hot and heavy. Upon the altar, two bodies were pressed together. Dim, flickering light from the candles fell upon them, making their skin glow a soft orange. There was a rustle of fabric, a small moan, as the lovers continued their ministrations. Their bodies trembled with need as they sought each other out through the darkness, their hands grappling at whatever was in reach. The process was frantic, yet they were in no hurry. There was kissing and thrusting, grinding and groping, all things that constituted a union between two lovers. There was suddenly a knock on the heavy wooden door. Then, through the panting, came a voice raspy with lust.

"Wolfram."

"Mmmm."

"There _is _something wrong with this, wouldn't you agree?" The knock came again. There was a sigh.

"We happen to be on the altar?"

"You know very well what I'm talking about. We are leaders. Physically and spiritually we are icons, and it just so happens that I, the Great Sage, and you, the Holy Vessel are engaging in unprincipled behavior in a holy sanctuary."

"I don't want to hear about this while you are between my legs," the Vessel said, pulling the Sage down for another kiss. The knock was heard again, louder this time. Wolfram disentangled himself angrily. "Ah fuck it! Put some damn clothes on! I'll deal with this."

Wolfram threw his robes loosely around his shoulders and scurried to the door in his bare feet. He cracked the door open enough to show his bare thigh and flushed face. On the other side stood a man in a cloak with a sheet of paper in his hands. Upon seeing Wolfram he began to fidget uncomfortably.

"Are you going to stand there all night, Libra, or are you going to tell me what you've found," Wolfram snapped, "The Great Sage and I were in the middle of a very important ritual."

"Yes, Your Holiness, I beg your forgiveness," he said, bowing and handing the paper to Wolfram, "We've found one of them, Holiness. One of the ones we've been searching for."

Wolfram's lips curled into a smile as he read the address. "Alert the others. Tell them we've found a new target."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

The smell of the battlefield was exactly how he remembered it in his dreams. Sweat, blood, and dry desert dust all mixed together in one, invisible, disgusting flurry. Blood rushed to his head, making his eyes see everything with a red tint. His entire body perspired in the heat and sweat poured down his face as he hacked away at nameless enemy soldiers with Morgif.

On the first day, he had smiled. This would be a decisive battle. A hoseki mine stood in the middle of the desert, unmarked on any of their maps. If captured, it could make the perfect oasis needed to complete the journey into Big Shimaron. Now, the only thing Yuuri could feel was fatigue. Fatigue for this battle which had gone far too long in a nasty stalemate and fatigue for desert warfare.

He had lost many men, most of them horyoku users. For this battle, Yuuri had a special army made up of only human soldiers. They were the only ones who could fight without feeling the draining effects of the hoseki. The plan was to secure the mine and then Yuuri's forces would rendezvous with Conrad and the rest of the Mazoku on the other side of the quarry.

But then again…nothing goes according to plan.

"You're majesty, look out!" Yuuri ducked as an arrow wizzed past his face struck the soldier behind him. He fell off his horse and lay on the ground, unmoving. In the past, Yuuri would have gotten off Ao and healed the man to the best of his ability, but now, his eyes were only on what lied ahead. He had cried over enough dead soldiers.

Today, Yuuri would break through. He would end this ugly standoff that his country and Big Shimaron had been locked in for fifteen long years. Two options were ahead: end the battle victoriously, or die trying. Today, there would be no in-between.

Fifteen years…

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

_To my son:_

_I hope this letter finds you well. The desert is the same as always, boring and hot. I hope you are being a good son and studying hard at school. Someday you will take my place as king and I fight this war so that in the future, you and everyone else can live in a peaceful world. I know this must be frustrating. I keep promising to come home soon and things keep coming up. I am very sorry and I can assure you that I will be seeing you very soon. _

_Love,_

_Yuuri Shibuya 27__th__ Maoh of Shin Makoku _

_.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o._

_To my husband:_

_The desert is a lonely place. The battles and my status keep me isolated from my men. Occasionally, my army will join with Conrad's, but mostly, I play the sad song on my flute alone. I never thought I would ever be writing a letter to you. Even still I hate you most passionately and yet you are the only companion I have left. Throughout these years you have always been by my side and I have taken you for granted. You and I share a common goal. We both accepted his child into the royal family and loved him to the best of our hearts. I guess I shall commend you for your hard work. I want you to know, should I not return home, that your love for me may have been unrequited, but it was never ever unnoticed._

_Sincerely,_

_Yuuri Shibuya 27__th__ Maoh of Shin Makoku _

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A gaggle of nervous men stood in front of the doors to the prestigious school. They watched as a carriage pulled up bearing the royal crest. The Bielefeld Military Academy had been the choice school for those of royal blood, but very rarely did they have their reigning sovereign himself visiting the school…quite so abruptly.

He stood in their presence with the smug sort of confidence that any Bielefeld possesses, and yet he was different. He had a rightful arrogance about him that made him stand out…that made him their superior. He was dressed in black with a heavy traveling cloak around his shoulders. His soft, golden hair was styled so that most of it hung in his face, obscuring all but his pink lips from their view.

He did not raise his delicate hand from his side and offer his greetings. Instead he walked over to them gracefully and three simple words fell from his lips.

"Where is he?"

The Academy Chairman stepped forward, wringing his hands nervously.

"It is an honor for us to be graced with your presence, Your Highness-

"Bring me my son. I must have a word with him about his behavior. I hear he has been causing much trouble for this school and is failing all his classes. This is unacceptable and I wish you would have notified me sooner."

"Please, allow me to invite Your Highness inside. We can discuss your son's…disruptiveness in the private of my office."

The Prince Consort merely turned up his nose with a small "hmph" and led the way through the double doors.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A small breeze blew through the streets of an abandoned human village somewhere within Big Shimaron. Five hooded figures stood at the entrance to the town, not even bothering to hide their figures from the bright light of the full moon. They began to walk. In their wake, followed death.

"Angela!" cried a woman's voice as the door to a tiny apartment opened. For a moment everything was illuminated by a lantern. One room. No windows or doors. It was the dead of night outside and once the lantern was extinguished the room was flushed into complete darkness once more.

"Angela, please tell me that it is you!" the woman's terrified voice called again.

"Hush Emilia!" the newcomer whispered, closing the door, "It's me. We have to leave now! I don't know how they found us, but we must go!" the woman approached her partner who cowered against the wall.

Emilia sobbed. "This is it, isn't it? We're doomed," her voice was hysterical, "Father always said I should have never married you!"

"Emilia, calm down. Where are the children?"

There was a knock at the door. Both women froze and chills went through their bodies.

"It's Death," whispered Emilia, so frightened she was on the verge on unconsciousness, "Death has come to claim you… to claim _us_."

The door creeked open. Several hooded figures stepped silently into the apartment. One, _Her, _the leader, was covered in a white cloak that seemed to shine through the darkness. Her appearance was ghostly as she glided smoothly to the center of the room. Despite the eerie ambiance, Angela decided to speak up.

"So you must be the rumored "Maiden of Death"", her voice wavered with false confidence. The words were loud in the silent apartment. "Many of our lesser man have fallen to your sword or to your beauty. Have you come to take my soul as well?"

The leader chuckled. When it spoke, it was with a man's voice. "I'm not sure where you and your cronies are getting this name from but perhaps it is more appropriate than I once thought." He lowered his hood. Long, golden hair was released and flowed down his shoulders like silk. His green eyes and fair skin gave him the look of nobility. His beauty was…flawless…unspeakable. Angela found herself captivated by his atmosphere.

"Am I as pretty as they say? Well that is for you to decide. Most of the men I've sent to Hell did not live long enough to hear me speak. Consider yourself fortunate."

Angela extended her arm. In her hand, she held a giant hoseki stone. "Be you angel or demon, I shall obliterate you where you stand." For a moment there was complete silence. Were they afraid? Angela thought. She stood ready, her eyes focused on _him. _Then, there was laughter all around her.

"Foolish woman. Did you not sense the horyoku barrier we set up? Your magic is useless," the mazoku all the way to the left said. The stone shattered in Angela's palm. She let the shards fall from her bleeding hand onto the floor. No matter. He fist tightened. She rushed to the blonde demon, the leader, reaching into her cloak for her knives as she took those few, decisive steps. Her daggers clashed with steel and she jumped back.

"I will not go down so easily," she said, crouching low into a battle stance. The man in white only smirked, unsheathing his sword.

"Then shall we turn up the heat?" fire spread from his fingertips and made his blade glow red hot. They began their fight anew and Angela found herself overwhelmed immediately. Without her horyoku, she didn't stand much of a chance, but this…this _mazoku_…wasn't normal. Her vision was swimming and she fell to her knees in a matter of minutes, defeated. She looked over to her wife, whom she had failed, and then back to the assailants.

"Good! Very good!" one of the hooded men jeered. "Some of these fully-fledged crows put up quite a fight!" The figure all the way to the right laughed harshly as well. A woman, apparently.

"Well spotted, Capricorn, but we will pick them off…one by one…until no little birdies remain." They all shared in another bout of laughter until their leader's impatient gaze told them to shut their mouths.

"What do you want to know?" Angela whispered, when his eyes were on her once more.

"Who is your leader?" the white-clad mazoku asked.

"I can't tell you that," she whimpered, shaking her head.

"We know you are in his inner circle. You're not just another goon. Give us a name, and we will spare your lovely wife."

Emilia and Angela exchanged a look.

"Tell them, Angela. Let me live," Emilia pleaded, "Oh please Angela, think of the children." Angela threw a disgusted look at her wife and turned back her executioners.

"Never."

The Maiden of Death looked into her eyes. She knew he could see…see that no matter how much she was tortured she would never give up the information. Never would she betray the secrets of the White Crows, even when her lover's life was on the line. And somehow that disgusted him.

The terrible…beautiful mazoku raised his sword.

The blood of Angela and Emilia splattered the walls.

"Your Holiness," began one of the figures as he stepped forward, "You needn't of killed her. We still could have gotten the name out of her somehow." Wolfram cocked his head, refusing to turn around.

"Aries…are you questioning my authority? The decision was mine to make."

"I apologize, Your Holiness. You are our true, divine leader and your word is our law," Aires replied suddenly, stepping back into line. Wolfram gave no answer. Instead he walked over to a large wardrobe and threw open the doors. Two small children were huddled inside, terrified out of minds and shaking uncontrollably with tears covering their faces. Wolfram smiled sadly at them, his eyes misting over.

"May Shinou bless your souls." Wolfram stood up and walked past his five followers. He stopped at Aires and put a hand on his shoulder. "You know very well my feelings on killing children. I shall leave the task to you." Aires nodded stiffly.

Wolfram shut himself out of the apartment and covered his ears. Somewhere far away in Shin Makoku he has his own son. He was unwilling to hear the bloody screams of someone else's.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A/N: I fear I may have touched a nerve with the first part of this chapter. This story is still Yuram. There is a good reason why Murata and Wolfram were fooling around.


	18. Chapter 17

A/N: It was very split. Some of you liked the Murata/Wolfram and some of you wanted to gut me like a fish. Very well. You will have your explanation.

To my anons:

Sunaa- ha angsty, certainly. I am glad you found my work entertaining and ecstatic that you stopped by and left a review. Now I shall let my characters do the talking

chapter 17

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A small breeze blew past and ruffled the papers in Murata's arms as he walked through the temple courtyard. Everything was alive and full. The sun shone brightly in the sky and the grass and tree leaves had turned a vibrant green. This was without a doubt Big Shimaron's most beautiful season.

Several human children came running past, giggling uncontrollably. They bowed respectfully to Murata and continued to chase each other back into the temple. They were orphans. Just like all the children that inhabited this temple.

"Have you decided to join us?"

Murata turned his head and shielded his eyes from the sun as he looked for the source. Wolfram walked up to him holding a drowsy toddler. His smile was radiant as he placed a wreath of flowers on Murata's head. A few small children hid shyly behind Wolfram's robes as they stared at Murata.

"Ok!" said Wolfram, setting down the sleepy child. "Let's play a game. The first one to the apple tree gets extra dessert! Ready…" His green eyes turned to Murata once again.

"You're playing too, aren't you?" Something wasn't right with those eyes. The great sage wasn't listening. He saw Wolfram's lips move but all he could concentrate on was the little black curse mark on Wolfram's exposed neck.

"Set…" there was a pause. "Hey, I see you cheating over there, Capricorn," the prince laughed.

_A curse that brought back horrible memories. A curse that had destroyed countless loved ones._

"Go!" They all took off running. Even Wolfram, with his blonde hair whipping in the wind.

The Great Sage sighed as he set down his papers. He of all people knew…that a perfect day like this…could not last forever.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Fifteen years later, that same courtyard stood barren. The breeze was lonely and cold. The trees were without leaves. In the sky, the clouds formed a thick blanket over the sun and in the distance, thunder rumbled. The yellow grass was dying and overgrown with weeds. Murata stood there for a moment, remembering days past, before turning and heading back into the temple.

For a Mazoku, fifteen years is nothing, but for a human it is a huge block of time. As for the orphans that once inhabited the temple, well, they had grown up. Some of them left, some of them stayed and became servants to the temple, and some of them became…something else.

"Have you decided to join us?" Wolfram was leaning against the door. The familiar words echoed eerily in Murata's mind. Wolfram reached up to brush the golden hair out of his face. Still there. Behind those green irises, something ominous lurked. Murata's eyes followed that hand…taken over by the curse…and his arm, stained with the black marks as well.

"Well?"

"Yes, I'm coming."

Reaching the end of a long, narrow corridor, they descended the stairs. With each step, the temperature dropped ten degrees. They followed the light of the torches, the only comfort to the dungeon walls hidden beneath the temple. Murata's eyes were accustomed to the darkness. Fifteen years had been spent mostly in this gloomy place.

Farther in, the stone walls morphed into iron bars. The bars held back the souless, broken bodies that, over the course of fifteen years, the Great Sage sought to imprison. Among them were political prisoners, hostages, men and women being held for ransoms. Many of the cells were taken up by White Crow members from whom information still needed to be…extracted. Many of the cells were taken up by test subjects. For what, even the sage himself wasn't sure.

They entered a wooden door at the dead end. In it was a table with four people seated at it. Upon Murata and Wolfram's entrance, they all stood up.

"Your Holinesses," they greeted. Murata scrutinized them. All of them were in their twenties but they always wore clothes that hid their faces. They were clothes that reminded Murata of the ninja back home except instead of black, the garments were colorful. Aires wore the red. Libra the yellow. Capricorn the green. Cancer the blue. It was all part of their training, Murata supposed. He had no business in what Wolfram did with "his children", as he was fond of calling them. All Murata cared about was if they could complete their assignments without flaw.

Wolfram spread his arms, a proud smile forming on his beautiful face. "Tell the Great Sage what you have found, my darlings."

Aries, always the first to speak up, stepped forward. "You're holiness, we have reason to believe from the gathered information, that we have found their "nest". The White Crow's hideout can be pinpointed to this location." He held out a map for Murata to see.

The sage took the map and examined it himself. He couldn't get excited. Not yet. Many times they thought they had found the place where those damn birds where hiding and always, they were one step ahead. But here, on this map, and according to the testimonies of several tortured prisoners, everything fit together. Years and years of searching had finally yielded some results. Now he needed a plan. Oh, there was so much that needed to be done! He was nearly speechless with shock.

"Good work," was all Murata was able to say, "You are dismissed for now." They filed neatly out of the room, perky after the unexpected praise from the Great Sage.

Wolfram and Murata were the only ones who remained in the room. Immediately, the Great Sage was uncomfortable. He had seen that look in Wolfram's eyes more and more lately and he did not like it.

Wolfram chuckled, low and seductive, sensing Murata's unease. Slowly, he removed all his clothes, unashamed. Murata should have noticed his perfect, creamy skin. Perfect figure. And in the past it would have given him an erection, but now, all he could see was the deadly, invasive curse that had taken over the entire left half of Wolfram's body. And it angered him deeply that he was helpless to stop it.

Wolfram walked over smoothly and sidled up to the dark haired man. Slowly he pushed Murata back against the wall, pressing their bodies together. Wolfram's palms ran over his chest and up around his neck. He leaned in close as he spoke.

"I need you tonight," he whispered.

"You do not need my tonight," the Great Sage said, rejecting him, "You needed me last night and I obliged. I am drawing the line. No more will I give up my maryoku to you."

"These human lands make me sick," Wolfram whined. He buried his face in the crook of Murata's neck and breathed deeply. "Only the embrace of a strong mazoku can make me feel better."

"You are addicted. Nothing more. Your excuses will do you no good," Murata said, pushing Wolfram off of him. "I have work to do now." Wolfram pouted.

"Fifteen years we have been unofficial mates. Would you deny me something I need so badly?"

"You are not my mate. You are Yuuri's. Let us get that straight. I have been helping you and that is all. Leave me alone now."

Angry, red maryoku flared up around Wolfram. He growled and caught Murata around the neck, throwing him back up against the wall.

"I can't survive without this! Give me your maryoku, Sage!"

"Look at yourself!" Murata choked, "You've become a power hungry beast, just as the curse has done to Shibuya."

Wolfram continued to breath hard for a moment. Then the wild look in his eyes began to lessen. He released Murata and stepped back, pulling at his blonde hair fretfully.

"What has become of me, Murata? I don't know myself anymore." He turned around so that his back was facing Murata. "Yuuri! Oh, Yuuri, I wish you were here now!" lamented Wolfram, his emotions immediately overwhelming him.

"Well I don't," the Great Sage said with a shiver, "If the curse has nearly driven you to madness, I shudder to think of what it has done to Shibuya."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"The reinforcements have arrived!" called a falsely cheery voice. Then there was a harsh laugh. A man with long, platinum hair took off his glasses and gazed upon the dead battlefield with his amber eyes. He smiled. "Oops."

A man with dark hair pulled his horse up next to his king's. "We are too late," he said, his voice devoid of emotion, "This mine has become a graveyard. Saralegui-heika, I will order the troops to search for any remaining hoseki that can be scavenged."

"Very well, Berias." The boy-king dismounted his horse, his feet stirring up dust. What lay before him was not a pretty scene. He carried onward on foot, carefully avoiding the corpses on the ground. Both armies had been decimated. The air was stagnant and noiseless, presenting Sara with a nasty smell all around and only the dead for company. He continued to walk, scanning the battlefield for a hand, a voice, anything to indicate that hope was not lost.

Its was strange. Both the soldiers wearing Big Shimaron's crest and Shin Makoku's crest were human, and yet there were signs all over that a large amount of maryoku had been used in the battle. Sara knew that hiding somewhere in the pile of bodies, was one very powerful Mazoku.

In his mind, he recreated the battle. An army of Shin Makoku's stormed the quarry from the front. Their numbers were large, but the defenses around the base were just too great for the battle to have an easy end. More of Big Shimaron's troops arrived, successfully ambushing the enemy. Then...someone must have gotten desperate. Both sides retreated. A torrent of fire and rock had ripped the place apart, killing nearly everyone in the vicinity. Nearly everyone...

_At the center of the vortex._ Sara stooped down. Before him lay a black suit of armor, tarnished by the grime of war. In it was a body...a beating heart. Sara removed the heavy plates, careful to avoid the deep cuts and arrow wounds.

He had black hair, black eyes under closed lids, black armor and most importantly, the demon sword grasped in his hand. He was the Mazoku king. The Maoh.

Sara smiled and gently wiped the dirt from the comatose king's face. He cringed when he saw that the skin was completely covered in an ugly curse. He still smiled.

"Come here for a moment, Berias! I think I've found something useful."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Wolfram, crouched in the branches of a tree, listened to the wind as it ruffled the leaves. He stared at the fortress they had come to visit. It was well-hidden; built into the hills of Small Shimaron and no doubt ran for miles and miles underground.

A bird sang. Wolfram knew it wasn't a bird. It was the all-clear signal from Cancer. Wolfram answered with his own call, telling the rest of them to stay put. He dropped from the tree, slightly disappointed. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, itching to draw it and spill human blood.

He began walking slowly toward the fortress, hidden beneath the guise of an innocent beggar. If there was a trap, Wolfram decided, he would be the one to set it off. Surely, surely this was a trap.

A few bold steps were all it took before something dropped down behind him and a knife was at his throat.

"Your disguises won't fool me. I have always known that behind your beauty lies a true monster. More than a decade has passed and I have never forgotten your face."

When the knife was gone Wolfram spun around. Before him stood an aging human with grey streaks in his dark hair. Though wrinkles had formed around his eyes, there was still a deadly spark to them. He was dressed in the signature cloak adorned with the White Crow's emblem.

Wolfram drew his sword slowly. His mind worked furiously. This human said he knew him and yet Wolfram could not think of when they had ever met.

"Unfortunately, I don't seem to remember _your_ face...could you tell me your name?" Both of them were now crouched into their battle stances. The old human brought out a bow and took a few steps back.

"Perhaps, after you've felt the pain of my arrows once again, you will remember."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"Continue," Ralph ordered as he sat in the offered seat, "I want to know everything he's done."

The head of the Academy, a stout man by the name of Sir Walenburg, sweated nervously behind his desk. Ralph had never met him before, even though he went to this school himself some years ago.

"His marks are dismal, I'm afraid," Walenburg responded, "He hasn't taken to any language or science. He has no prowess with a sword and he absolutely refuses to use his maryoku. He has been the source of many incidents at this school and he has very little respect for his professors." He sighed. "Although there is one class that he does well in. History seems to be his favorite subject. It is the only class where he has received high marks."

Ralph frowned, highly disappointed. He had an inkling this would happen...that Shinou just wouldn't fit in. He refused to admit it, but Ralph was sure that the boy had no maryoku. Shinou had to compete with full-blooded Mazoku while his own blood was tainted. Tainted by some nameless human that his cousin had slept with. Now Ralph was dealing with the consequences of that union.

Ralph stood up. "I will set him straight. It is time he learned to act like a proper heir to a nation. Tell me what class he is attending."

"He hasn't attended his classes for the past two days."

Ralph smiled, remembering his own days of skipping his lectures. "That's alright. I'm sure I know where he is."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

The sun felt warm upon closed eyelids. Eyes opened lazily into the glaring light and immediately, a hand came up to shield them. They were a brilliant blue color, clear and intelligent, with a thirst for knowledge that, sometimes, could not be sated. A breeze blew past and a few blonde strands of hair fell into those blue eyes, casting the world into shimmery yellow. Tall grass rose and fell languidly with the wind, obscuring the lithe body of a teenage boy.

Nature was the only witness to the lounging prince's deeds. All was peaceful.

Shinou sat up and took a book from his bag. It was old and torn but he set it in his lap anyway and began to carefully flip through its pages.

The text was ancient. It spoke of powers and magics that the fledgling prince could only dream of. However, there was an issue with reading this book and Shinou knew it. It was why he had chosen to read it in seclusion, miles away from his prestigious Mazoku school. The book was entitled: _The secrets of human spell casting_. Shinou was a Mazoku.

Or so he once thought…

There was the sound of footsteps upon healthy grass. Shinou raised his eyes, at the same time throwing the forbidden book back into his schoolbag.

"Relax," called a familiar voice, "It's only me."

"Father!" Shinou greeted, stumbling to his feet and turning to face the Prince Consort. He was guilty. He was about to be in a very large amount of trouble. He had skipped class again. He was failing everything. "Where are your guards, father? You shouldn't put yourself in danger out here."

"The same goes for you...out here all alone...I would never forgive myself if something happened to you. My guards have been ordered to remain hidden to give us some privacy. Shinou, there are some things I would like to talk to you about."

Shinou looked at the ground. "It's about school isn't it? I've been trying, I swear!"

"It's not about that-"

"Then its about my poor swordsmanship...or my lack of maryoku!"

"Shinou-"

"I'm sorry, father. I just can't be the son you want me to be!"

Ralph sighed. He never wanted Shinou to feel this way. He opened his mouth to respond, but immediately, a strange, sickening tingle went through his body. Shinou, noticing his father's sudden fright, stiffened.

"Father-"

"Shhh" Ralph knew that Shinou couldn't feel it, but he knew...he knew there was a powerful horyoku user nearby. But where had all his guards gone?

"Father...where did you say your guards were?" whispered Shinou.

There was a disturbance in the brush ahead. Ralph pushed Shinou behind him.

"Alex...Karl...Felix..." called out Ralph, praying that one of his soldiers would answer him. There was no reply. "Who's there? Show your face, you coward!"

A figure came into view. As he stepped from the shade of the trees into the sunlight, Ralph noticed the White Crow insignia on his cloak. "Who are you?" Ralph demanded.

The man's features were finally visible. He was a fair skinned human with long, black hair. His eyes were dark as well. He looked...oddly familiar.

"I didn't think it was possible..." the man spoke in barely more than a whisper, "To think that you would return...And yet here you are, right before my very eyes."

"Who are you?" Ralph asked again, noticing that the stranger couldn't seem to take his eyes off of Shinou. "If you don't answer me, I will be forced to draw my sword."

"Jenus," whispered Shinou, "Your name...is Jenus." His eyes had misted over as if he were in some kind of trance.

"That's it, my king," the stranger replied softly. He extended his hand. "Come. I will tell you all the answers you have been seeking."

"What is going on here?!" demanded Ralph. Shinou started to walked out from behind him. Ralph held him back. "What have you done to my son, you human bastard!"

An amazingly strong blast of horyoku sent Ralph flying. He regained his feet and drew his sword. "I don't know who the hell you think you are, but my son is not going anywhere with you!" The stranger began to laugh.

"Oh but he is not your son. And you are not Wolfram Von Bielefeld."

Ralph's eyes widened. He suddenly felt someone come up behind him, but before he was even able to turn around...

there was darkness.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.


	19. Chapter 18

A/N: Ok. This fic has gone in a completely different direction than I originally intended. However, now at least I have some idea of how I will finally end this thing. Dont worry, it wont be this chapter.

To my anons:

qwertyuiop- I too, shall rot in this fandom forever. Together we shall rot our brains by engaging in reading and writing senseless fanfics until the day we die. Thanks for reviewing, I'm happy im still attracting fresh blood with this fanfic.

Chapter 18 awakening

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Outside the tent, a brewing sandstorm howled. During the day, the sun baked the earth with its hot rays, leaving no drop of moisture to spare for a desperate army stranded in the middle of the desert sand dunes. During the night, with no cloud cover to keep in the extreme heat, the temperature would plummet, leaving the desperate army shivering inside their tents.

Sara walked over and stuck his fair head outside the flaps of his tent. Wind and sand pelted his face with a fury that only nature could provide. In the distance, he could make out the light of the setting sun. Soon, the darkness would come.

Sara's face returned to the tent and he closed the flaps after pushing the blonde tangles of his hair out of the way. He then returned to the bedside of his charge.

_The Maoh_. Sara giggled with excitement. To finally be able to meet this man, even though he may be unconscious, was an absolute delight for the human king. He was a legend. A fairytale gone wrong. Years, the Maoh had spent trying to unite the human lands peacefully. Back then he had been a kind, benevolent king. Then something happened. The rumors say many things. Some say he finally tired of peace. Some say he was forced into the war. Some say his lover was kidnapped by humans. But no matter what had happened, somehow, this man had snapped. Now his name was feared throughout all the lands.

But as Sara looked upon the sleeping king's face, he was surprised to see that the man was quite human, not at all the monster the rumors all said him to be. In fact, he was quite handsome as well. So handsome that Sara could not help but peel the blankets off to get a better look at his exquisite body.

_But the curse..._

It really was a shame. The black marks had taken over his entire body. By all means, the man should be dead. No one, not even a king, could survive a curse this bad. But who was the man beneath? Sara was dying to know.

They were alone in the tent. Sara took hold of the handsome king's face, his fingers wound themselves in the black strands of hair. He leaned over the man curiously. What would it be like to taste those lips? Sara closed his eyes and kissed the man.

All hell broke loose.

Sara was thrown back. The pegs of his tent came out of the ground and the entire thing blew away. The wind howled and the sandstorm picked up.

"Your Highness!" Berias yelled from somewhere behind him. Sara didn't respond. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off of what was in from of him. _What..._

Not a man. No, a creature. A horrifying thing that was surrounded by red maryoku. The dangerous maryoku leaked from him and Sara felt it seeping into his very soul, choking him, making him gag. He fell to his knees.

The Maoh...the _beast_ was laughing. It was an uncontrollable, maniac laugh that resonated throughout the heavens and sent chills down Sara's spine. When he finally finished, the creature raised his hands, god-like, and spoke in a voice that transcended death.

"Arise...my army!"

For a moment, nothing happened. Then Sara saw them. The corpses from the battlefield had risen to their feet and were dragging themselves to the one who had summoned them. They moved like puppets on strings, their limbs hanging limply at their sides. Sara watched them, horrified and frozen, until the Maoh's deep voice spoke again, this time giving out a single order to his newly awakened minions.

"Kill them all."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

An arrow struck Wolfram in the shoulder. He howled in pain as he finally came to his senses. He had destroyed the surroundings. Everything was burning.

_No...No.._

He had done it again without thinking. He had been consumed by the curse's power. He found his hands wrapped around a neck. It was that human; that white crow who knew his name. He was badly burned and his bow had been cast aside. He struggled feebly. His eyes met Wolfram's once more and all the sudden the blonde realized...he _had_ seen them before. Many, many times. Many, many places. In his mind...scattered memories.

_Footsteps behind him. "We should kill him while we have the chance."_

_A voice in the dark. "You can't keep him."_

_A dagger with the insignia on its handle sliding over his skin. "...Its not mine."_

_In a room, three men, one with a mask. "Don't think we aren't serious."_

_He was chasing the assassin through the forest. At the cliff. "Who are you!"_

"You!" said Wolfram, "It's you!" his grip on the man's neck loosened, but his hands stayed in place. "You were the assassin! The man in the mask! My friend! You were "Shooter"!"

"Yes, I am many things to you, Wolfram Von Bielefeld, but I am not your enemy."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

As Ralph came to, the first thing he noticed was the trickling of a nearby stream. Fuzzy, jumbled thoughts began to morph into coherent ones and he felt his head begin to throb painfully. Something wet touched his face and he jolted awake, rolling over and drawing his sword in a single, fluid motion.

"Easy! Easy!" came the voice of a man, "I only wanted to clean you up a bit."

Ralph stared hard at the man. Unshaven, with wild blue hair growing in every direction, he was terribly familiar.

"Lawrence..." began Ralph slowly, "Lawrence Kaliope"

The man smiled warmly at Ralph and held out his arms.

"Come to me, baby,"

Ralph dropped his sword without a second thought and jumped into welcoming arms, kissing every inch of the man's face and grasping tightly at that spikey blue hair.

"Oh God! I thought you dead! Its been decades!"

"I know, and I'm sorry."

"You could have at least told me that you were alive! You are my husband!"

"I'll never leave you again, I promise." They shared another long kiss.

"Lawrence..." Ralph was looking down; looking at his husband's cloak with the emblem of the White Crowns stitched on the side.

"It's "Striker" now."

Ralph took a step back fearfully. "You're with them, aren't you?" He turned around to run but his husband grabbed him by the arm.

"No please! Listen to what I have to say. I can explain everything."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"Explain!" demanded Wolfram letting his captive get up and catch his breath. "I want to know everything. Enough of my chasing and enough of your hiding!"

"hn." said Shooter as he gasped for breath, "Those who are out for revenge will never be done chasing. Never will their blood lust be satisfied."

"Tell me what I want to know and you wont become part of my blood lust."

"You don't see the big picture yet? It will become clear soon enough." he coughed and wiped blood from the side of his mouth. "You've been hunting the wrong people."

"No I haven't!" countered Wolfram, "You're working for a bigger organization...one that set up this entire war with the humans.

Shooter smiled, "Ah but you dont really care about that, do you? What is it that you really want to say?"

Wolfram narrowed his eyes, "It's your fault I've had to kill so many people. It's your fault that Yuuri and I aren't together!"

"Wrong. It is the curse that has done that."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"The curse?" asked Ralph, "Don't be ridiculous! His majesty is in perfect health."

"You've seen it, don't lie. You must have seen how the Maoh suffers from it. Maybe you've seen it on his very skin. He must have bedded you several times since you became "Wolfram"." Striker said, a streak of jealousy entering his voice.

"I have never lain with His Majesty."

Striker scowled disbelievingly. "Been living a comfy life, haven't you? All cozy in the Maoh's palace while I stole and begged for my living."

"I would've come with you. You only need have asked. I just don't understand why you would become one of _them_. _They_ are enemies of the mazoku race. For so long I thought they had taken my cousin away. Now they have taken my son away. Why would you do such a thing?"

"My dear husband, have you ever considered that perhaps you are on the wrong side?"

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"Wrong side? Ha! What a laugh!" said Wolfram. "Me? Evil? I dont think so," even as he said it, his eyes sparked with red maryoku and the cursed blood burned through his veins. "Now if you don't have anymore to tell me, I think I will take your life finally. After all, you did sell me into slavery."

Defiant eyes met Wolfram's. Wolfram dragged the old man up by his collar and held a flaming ball of fire to his face.

"Say good bye, Shooter."

All of the sudden, a great torrent of water hit Wolfram, disorienting him and causing his flame to go out.

"What the..." began Wolfram, "Murata! What are you doing here?"

The Great Sage stood between them, water dragons coiling around his body and his hands held out calmly.

"I'm afraid, Von Bielefeld, that we must hear him out a bit longer. I cannot allow you to take his life." His water caught and held a struggling Wolfram.

"You're betraying me, Sage? You said we'd take them down together!" Wolfram shouted.

Murata, ignoring Wolfram, turned to Shooter. "Now it is my turn for answers. Who is the man that has my memories?"

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Shinou stumbled through the undergrowth. He was silent as he followed the strange man named Jenus. He couldn't place his finger on it, but there was something about the man that hypnotized him.

"I dream about you," said Shinou suddenly. He wasn't answered but he continued anyway, "All the time. You are always in my dreams. Sometimes you tell me how to win battles, sometimes we have long talks as friends, and sometimes..." Shinou stopped and blushed. Jenus turned around.

"Hush child." He extended his hand and cupped Shinou's chin. His eyes were soft as he spoke. "It must be very confusing for you, but for now, you must follow me." With a swish of his cloak, Jenus was hurrying though the trees again. Shinou followed.

They walked for an hour in silence. Shinou was tired and it was beginning to get dark. The owls hooted in their trees.

They came upon a rundown temple. It was long abandoned and falling down in some places. The windows were boarded shut and the door hung on rusty hinges. Jenus walked up to it and placed his hand on the door. He turned to Shinou and stared at him for a moment.

"This will do."

He forced open the door. Rats and spiders scampered out of the way. Dust hung in the air long after the door had been busted down.

"Come and sit on the altar, my dear boy. It is time for your awakening." Shinou sat shyly on the dusty wood. He stared at Jenus as the man used horyoku to put interesting designs on the floor, preparing for some sort of ritual. Then Jenus approached Shinou, his face expressionless, and slowly slid the shirt of of the boy's shoulders. Shinou shivered. Next his boots and pants were off, as well as his underwear, until he was completely naked and exposed. He was scared.

"What is this all for? Tell me...who I am. I need to know. I've known that my entire life has been a lie and I think I'm ready to know the truth," Shinou whispered.

Jenus's eyes looked suddenly into Shinou's striking blue ones and the man began to speak. "The parents that you have known your entire life are not your parents. You are the son of the forbidden union of a Mazoku and a human. Your soul...is that of a king thousands of years dead."

"The soul of a king?" Shinou's eyes were wide.

"You are the child my country...no, this world, has been waiting for." Jenus reached into his cloak and pulled out a golden sword. "Hold out your hands," commanded Jenus. Shinou obeyed and Jenus placed the sword into his open palms. Shinou could feel the power of the sword coursing through his body.

"This sword is a holy sword. It, alone, has the power to rival a demon sword.

"W-What do I do with it?"

Jenus smiled. "Close your eyes." Again, Shinou obeyed. The world was dark but Shinou could feel Jenus up real close. When the man spoke, Shinou could feel his breath on his neck and his voice resonate in his ear.

"You must embrace your destiny, my dear boy."

Any words that Shinou might have wanted to say were cut off as another pair of lips closed over his own. Hands were in his hair and his head was tilted back. His eyes misted over and suddenly he felt something inside of him begin to change.

Jenus was kneeling on the floor.

"Welcome back, my king."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A/N: This chapter was meant to explain. Hopefully the next chapter will have lemony goodness.


	20. Chapter 19

A/N: im terribly sorry for the long wait. You see, when I realized that my greatest story was nearing its end, I got very depressed and stopped writing. Then, one night an idea for a sequel came to me! Now my spark is back. Also, see if you can guess where this song is from.

Chapter 19

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Yuuri stood upon the hill overlooking Big Shimaron's magnificent capital city. Behind him his undead army moaned and swayed on their feet. They were hungry. Hungry for human blood. But they couldn't have their meal just yet. Somewhere within this metropolis his Wolfram was hidden, perhaps against his will. Many times he had called out to his lover with his mind. There had been no answer. He needed his Wolfram. Together they had a mission. Together they had to unite the world under Mazoku control.

And so Yuuri would wait...

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Ralph sat on his horse. The sky was in the first phase of dawn and the sun had just risen beyond the hills. A look of worry remained drawn upon Ralph's pretty features as the man stared off into the trees.

To his right and left stood two guards. They had long since given up trying to soothe their ruler's unease. Instead they watched over their captive: the long lost heir to the Kaliope estate, Laurence Kaliope. He had turned traitor, dressed in the clothes of the enemy. None of them wanted anything to do with him. He would be returned to the castle to await his execution.

"What is taking them so long?" demanded Ralph impatiently, "They've been searching all night,"

"Your highness, we are doing everything we can to find your son, I assure you."

"Then get your asses in there as well!" ordered Ralph. "I'll watch the prisoner."

"Your highness-"

"NOW!" The two soldiers galloped off into the trees. Leaving Ralph and Laurence alone in the dark clearing.

For a while, nothing was said. It was too awkward. What was left for them to say? It had been so long and they had taken different paths.

"There not gonna find him." said Laurence, "He is with our leader. He has a roll to fulfill."

"And what could that possibly be?" snarled Ralph. "For god's sake, he's only a boy."

"You were his age when we were married," spoke Laurence softly. He approached Ralph, chains clinking around his ankles, and put a hand on the blond's thigh.

"It was arranged. It's not like I had a choice," Ralph huffed.

"No," agreed Laurence with a low chuckle, "But you liked me right? A little?" his hand slid up Ralph's thigh slowly, "Especially on our wedding night. You certainly liked me then."

Ralph's face turned a nice shade of pink and he pushed the offending hand away. "I'm the Prince Consort of this country and I will not allow such dirty things to be said to my face."

Ralph let out and indignant shriek as he was suddenly pulled off of his mount. The horse spooked and ran to a safe distance where it began to graze. Lawrence pinned Ralph's hands above his head and wedged himself between the blonde's legs. Ralph gave up fighting immediately. Tears welled in his eyes.

"I missed you so much," he whispered. Lawrence's chains clinked as he released his husband's hands. He stroked Ralph's cheek softly and wiped the tears from his face. He sighed.

"When I was traveling I met your cousin," began Lawrence. "Clueless and pregnant, he hadn't any idea how to survive on his own, but I took him under my wing."

"Why?" said Ralph.

"Because he reminded me so much of you," answered Lawrence, "And for a while I actually had hope that I would see you again," he chuckled and jingled his chains, "I didn't think I would have to die to see you though."

Ralph didn't say anything for a long time. He continued to stare at his husband. Finally, he whispered something incoherent.

"What?"

"Do it to me." Ralph commanded.

"Thought you'd never ask."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Snow began to fall lightly from the grey sky that hung over Big Shimaron. The city was quiet. People hurried by in small groups, eager to find shelter from the frigid wind.

Two Mazoku walked briskly up the steps of the royal palace of the human king. Not many Mazoku would dare to make such a move, but these people were on the verge of desperation.

Suddenly one of the Mazoku stopped in his tracks. A shiver went through his body and his eyes went wide. The other Mazoku turned around.

"Wolfram..." he began. When Wolfram didn't respond, he shouted over the howling wind, "WOLFRAM!" Two eyes turned to him. One was green. One was red. They were sad and lonely; the eyes of a broken man.

"Murata...I cant..." began Wolfram, his breath was visible in the frozen air, "He.._He..._is calling for me. I can't ignore it any longer." He turned around, ready to start running, but Murata caught his hand.

"No Wolfram, you must endure. I will not allow you to succumb to the curse." Murata took out a necklace from his pocket. Hoseki stones served as its glittering beads. He held it up to Wolfram. "I didn't want to have to do this..." he lowered Wolfram's hood and placed the necklace around that pale neck. Immediately, Wolframs eyelids fluttered and he collapsed into Murata's arms. Murata carried Wolfram up the remaining steps.

"Halt!" shouted one of the guards. He and another guard crossed their spears, preventing the cloaked figures from taking another step. "State your name and business, stranger."

Murata lowered his hood, exposing himself to the icy gale. Black hair and black eyes greeted the unsuspecting soldiers. "My name is Murata Ken, Great Sage of the Mazoku Kingdom. I'm here seeking political asylum. Please allow me an audience with King Lanzhil. It is of the utmost importance."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"So Great Sage of the Mazoku Kingdom, how does our food compare?" spoke Lanzhil after draining his glass of wine.

Murata set down his fork. He was slightly uncomfortable with dining with his enemy, but lifetimes of practice had taught him to remain calm.

"Spicy, as all human food is," replied Murata. Lanzhil laughed.

"Our lives are too short to go without some excitement," the king responded. "You still haven't told me what illness your friend is stricken with. Our healers may be able to help him if we only knew what it was."

"He'll be fine with some rest," spoke Murata untruthfully. He got the feeling that Lanzhil could sense that he was lying. He didn't care. He came for some answers. There was a long silence in which neither man spoke.

"Please, say what is on your mind. This atmosphere is beginning to get to me." said Lanzhil.

"Hmm..." pondered Murata. He hated to admit that he was a bit tipsy and the next words out of his mouth he was sure to regret in the morning. "Tell me, your highness, what reasons a country would have to incite a war."

Lanzhil stroked his chin for a moment as he thought over an answer. "Money, perhaps...power...land. Why don't you tell me, Great Sage, after all, this war was all your doing."

A cold silence followed. Murata narrowed his eyes. "And how could you possibly prove that?"

"_I _can prove it." came a voice. A woman stood in the doorway to the dining hall. She was beautiful, possibly the most beautiful human Murata had ever seen. However, instead of a dress she was clothed in armor; in the colors of Big Shimaron."

"Ah there you are. Sage, I'd like you to meet my chief strategist. Her name is Greta Shibuya." Lanzhil was smirking, perhaps hoping to see a reaction. Murata's voice remained chilly as he spoke.

"It's good to see you again, Princess."

"Dont," Greta snarled, "call me Princess. I no longer wish to be associated with the Mazoku Kingdom. Not after what King Yuuri has done, and especially not after what you have done."

"And what is it that I have done, Princess?"

Greta walked over to the table and slammed her fists down. A glass tipped. "You betrayed us all!" she cried, "It was a while before I finally understood everything, but I was there that night at the Kaliope estate. You were the one who hired STOPPE to do your bidding. You were the one to incite the war and send Wolfram to his disgrace. You used him. You used him to start your pathetic war. When the white crows stood in your way you used Wolfram again to kill them off. What I want to know is why? Why would you do such a thing to my family...to my country?"

Murata said nothing for a while. He watched the blood red wine spread slowly across the white tablecloth. "Do you want to know what lurks beyond the comfort and safety of these walls? Do you truly want to know?" said Murata in a low voice. "Something horrible. Something more terrifying than you could imagine. I did what I did to protect something precious to me. Selfish? Perhaps. I regret nothing."

"Just who is it that you were trying to protect?" asked Greta furiously.

"That would be me," someone's voice echoed from the hallway. There was a tapping of footsteps and soon another person was in the room. Murata's eyes slid up that slight body, pale skin and shining golden hair, and came to rest upon all-knowing blue eyes.

"No" whispered Murata.

"Yes" answered Shinou, "You thought you could shun me from the world. You thought you could keep me from fulfilling my duty. That is why you mobilized the humans: To fight the evil that was to come. Well I have news for you, my daikenja. My memories have been unlocked and it is time that I righted the mistakes that we have made."

"If I may ask," began Greta, "just what is your duty?"

"To end Yuuri's existence."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Wolfram stared at his dark reflection in the hand mirror. A hand rose up to caress the cursed side of his face.

"Boku no Yuuri sagashiteteru

daiji no hana sagashiteru..."

There was a crash. The mirror had slipped from Wolfram's grasp and lay in sparkling shards upon the carpet.

"anata wa atari tashikameyo

daiji no hana sagashiteru."

Wolfram's weak voice echoed in the empty room. He tried once more, pulling with all his might at his hoseki collar, feeling the power of stones draining his energy. He rose like a ghost from the lavish bed and stumbled over to the window where the moonlight from the courtyard was spilling through.

He never dreamed he'd be in the castle of the human king as a guest. Always he envisioned himself in this castle as a conqueror; as a hero. How disappointing.

He needed to get out. It was only a matter of time before Lanzhil saw his face and recognized him as the whore who killed his father. It was only a matter of time before Murata's little peace plan was in shambles. And it was only a matter of time before the curse would cause Wolfram to slip into madness.

The room was hot. Wolfram had long since smothered the fire burning in the fireplace and yet the air remained thick and unbreathable. Why was it so hot? Wolfram attempted to pry open the door to the balcony but it had been sealed shut with magic. He sank to his knees and stared hopelessly through the glass at the frozen world outside.

"_Come to me, love. I need you." _Yuuri's voice whispered sensually in his ear. A blush soon burned on Wolfram's cheeks. He shook his head roughly, dispelling the illusion.

"I...can't," Wolfram whimpered.

There was suddenly a knock on the door. Wolfram stood up. Who could possibly be disturbing him at this time of night? Wolfram felt the hoseki barrier around the room lift and the door creaked open. A pair of blue eyes stared at Wolfram through the darkness.

"A lovely voice you have...and an even lovelier face. So why, might I ask, did you destroy that which could reflect your beauty?"

Wolfram slowly bent down and picked up a shard of the broken mirror. He pricked his finger on the sharp point.

"I'm afraid...at this point...there is more beauty in death," Wolfram responded quietly. There was a flurry of movement. As Wolfram aimed the point of his tool at his throat, the shard was suddenly knocked from his hand.

"Don't be foolish! Wolfram Von Bielefeld."

Wolfram's eyes widened when he finally looked upon his guest. He sunk into a deep bow, his forehead touching the floor.

"Shinou-heika...please forgive me,"

"Rise Wolfram, you shall bow in my presence no longer. You may at one point have been my subject, but now you are my blood." He knelt on the floor next to Wolfram and took his face in his hands. "You were the one to give birth to this body, you were the one to give me new life, and for that you shall be rewarded."

"Please...I want to see my son," whispered Wolfram.

Shinou fixed him with a contemplative stare and sighed, "It has been a long time...perhaps too long. Be prepared if the boy should reject you." His eyelids fluttered and Wolfram caught the small body before he could hit the floor. The majestic presence of the Original King was gone from the room. The young boy stirred in Wolfram's arms. His eyes opened slowly and cleared as he took in the appearance of the man cradling him.

"Where am I?" began the boy, "Who are you?"

Wolfram bit back a sob. He reached a hand out to stroke his son's face but the boy shrank away from him, frightened. Wolfram looked down and retracted his arm, hiding the ugly curse from view once again. He stepped back so that only his good side remained in the light.

"I'm sorry you had to see that,"Wolfram responded, his eyes shifting to the floor. "It is a shame that this is the "me" that my son will remember."

Shinou's eyes widened, "Are you him? My real father?"

Wolfram could only nod. Silence stretched for a long time after that as Shinou seemed unsure of what to think.

"I know how you must feel...abandoned, betrayed," Wolfram turned his back on his son so that he would not see the tears forming in his eyes, "While I was pregnant I grew so attached to you. I couldn't wait to finally see your face. Now...well, it's been years and we never got to be the family that I always dreamed about." Wolfram stopped when he felt a hand on his back. He slowly turned around. Shinou was looking at him with his bright blue eyes and a smile...a smile that reminded Wolfram of Yuuri.

"We still can," the boy said. Wolfram found it hard to keep looking at that face. He turned away again.

"Can't you see that it's too late, Shinou?" Wolfram responded harshly. His fingers dug into the cursed side of his face, nails breaking the skin and forming crimson gashes. "Can't you see that I'm...I'm..." Wolfram hesitated and closed his eyes, "dying?" the last word was spoken in a whisper as though the man had been afraid of admitting it all along.

"Then I'll find a way to save you," Shinou declared. His expression had hardened as he took Wolfram's hand. "But first you have to leave. I think they mean to kill you."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Greta pulled her cantering horse to a halt. The troops behind her followed suit. Greta narrowed her eyes as she watched the outline of her father disappear into the nighttime snowfall.

"General?" one of the soldiers questioned, "Shall we pursue him?"

"No," Greta answered, "He is already a dead man."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Yay! Next chap: Yuuri and Wolf reunited...again...for good...probably


	21. Chapter 20

A/N: Thank you "luv animemanga forever" your review got me to get off my lazy ass and got me to write this entire chapter in record time.

Chapter 20

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

The wind howled and the angry blizzard picked up. Day and night could not be discerned through the heavy wall of falling snow. The world was white.

Wolfram trudged onward, his mind blank. He stumbled as he hit a snow drift and sank up to his knees in frozen precipitation. He could not see where he was going, but he didn't need to…his only plan was to put as much distance between the human king's castle and himself as he possibly could. His mind replayed the final conversation he had with his son.

_Shinou used his strength to rip the cumbersome hoseki necklace from Wolfram's neck. Beads fell to the floor and scattered in every direction. Shinou proceeded to force open the magically sealed balcony doors. Wolfram only stared at the boy._

"_Come with me," said Wolfram, "I don't want to lose you again."_

"_I can't," whispered Shinou, sounding suddenly like the child he was, "I have to save the world."_

"_The world isn't worth it…" Wolfram held out his hand, "If we part here, we may very well be enemies when we next meet. I don't want that." Shinou took a step back, shaking his head._

"_I'm going to save you too," he insisted. _

"_Once the curse consumes me, I'm not going to want to be saved," Wolfram reminded him, impatiently. _

"_I'll find a way," answered Shinou._ Such optimism, _ thought Wolfram. _Foolish optimism. Just like Yuuri…

_Wolfram found his eyes tearing up. He grabbed the boy and embraced him roughly._

"_Don't cry, father. I will see you soon."_

An inhuman screech tore Wolfram from his thoughts. He whipped around, still unable to see anything through the icy gale. Then from the trees they appeared. Their grotesque, rotting flesh was shades of green and purple, frozen from the frigid conditions. Arrows protruded from their bodies. Blood sat dried and caked from wounds long since inflicted. Their eyes, blank and unseeing, somehow managed to tear to the very core of Wolfram's soul. He found himself shivering.

They surrounded him now, dragging their rusted and blunted instruments of war. The nearest one raised his sword. Wolfram stood frozen in place, wondering if this was the end, or if he were perhaps already in hell. He closed his eyes, waiting for death.

Nothing happened. Wolfram opened his eyes once more and stumbled backward. The creatures…all of them…were on their knees, heads bowed in respect.

"The markssss…you possessss them. Our master awaitssss you."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Lanzhil slowly stood from his throne as Greta entered the room. She walked to the foot of the stairs and knelt before the human king, her long, chocolate curls obscuring her face as she inclined her head.

"He has escaped, Majesty," she informed him, "It is likely that he will join Yuuri and his forces, who are gathering, even now, outside our borders."

Lanzhil let out a tired sigh. He turned to Murata who was standing quietly near the doors.

"So, Great Sage, shall I punish you for throwing the world into chaos? Should I kill you like I would any other Mazoku? Should I make you stand trial before a court of kings?" he then set his eyes on the golden-haired boy next to him; the boy whose presence was more man than child. "Or should I do nothing, knowing that you may be the only one who knows how to save us?"

"It was never my intention to save you-" Murata began. Shinou cut him off.

"What he means to say is that we are now your only hope and that you should commend him on having the foresight to do what was necessary." Shinou had stepped forward, looking Lanzhil deeply in the eyes. A war of pride between two kings.

"Very well," said Lanzhil after a moment, "I never thought I'd live to see the day where I personally entrusted the safety my country…to a Mazoku."

"Only half Mazoku, dear brother. And rest assured, I will bring justice to those responsible," replied Shinou. Lanzhil hardly seemed reassured. He crossed the room to the large windows, where he stared at the white world, worry etched on his face.

"We must prepare this city for battle," he said quietly. He fixed his eyes back on Shinou. "My troops are yours to command."

"They will not be needed. From the beginning, this has been less of a war between two countries than a lingering grudge between two, old souls."

They were excused from the throne room. Murata followed calmly in Shinou's wake. The halls were drafty and Murata wondered if Shinou was cold in his light clothing. He showed no outward signs that the temperature was getting to him.

Murata patiently waited for Shinou to speak.

"Is something bothering you?" Shinou asked. Murata didn't need to respond. Shinou, after all, already knew the answer. "You want to know who brought me here...who awakened me." Shinou smiled and Murata's jealousy grew. "Fear not, the one to put his hands on me was none other than yourself."

"Myself?" Murata asked, "I think I would remember such a thing."

"It is the most peculiar thing. I'm sure you must have noticed your missing memories, or perhaps your wayward _White Crows_. He's still here in the castle, if you wish to meet him."

They turned the corner and began heading up the stairs. They came upon a room hidden in one of the towers. Shinou showed him through the door.

The fire was the only light in the room, casting its weak light on the only piece of furniture. A small bed sat in the corner, in it a sickly, elderly man. His eyes had stopped seeing, his skin was wrinkled like old parchment, he was a skeleton of a person. His heart surely would give out within the hour.

"Jenus, someone has come to see you."

_Jenus..._thought Murata, _that was my name...a few hundred years ago._

They reached his bedside. The man, Jenus, lifted his boney fingers. Shinou took his hand, gently, and spoke to him softly. "This man here is the one you have been waiting for. He has come...to take you away." Shinou stepped back and turned to Murata.

"The magic keeping him alive has run dry. He is ready to return your memories to you," Shinou said.

Murata took Shinou's place. He looked down at the broken, old man. A man with a life's mission so strong he had found a way to live a second life. He had to give himself credit. He never knew he had once possessed such determination.

"You're here..." came his raspy voice. He could barely speak. "I avoided you...until the end. Now I must return what is rightfully yours." He gestured for Shinou to come near again. "Remember what I stood for," He grasped Shinou's arm and continued, still speaking to Murata. "Protect him...care for him...hold him...in the way that I never could."

Murata bowed his head, allowing Jenus's unsteady fingertips to touch his forehead. He should have been angry at this stubborn, rebellious part of himself that had the audacity to break away, but now the feelings just wouldn't stick.

"I will," promised Murata in a whisper. Thoughts, ideas, memories all came rushing back to him as the life left the other man's body.

A small sob stole Murata's attention. Shinou, or rather his boy form, was crying. Perhaps the king's emotions had been so great that he had relinquished control of his body to his other self and retreated back to the depths of their mind. Murata put his arms around the boy and let him bury his tear-stained face into his coat.

"Don't ever leave me," cried the boy.

"Never," Murata vowed, hugging his king close, "We've been together since the beginning of time...and we will be together even after the end of it."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

It could hardly be called a camp. No fires, no hustle of men in pre-battle duties, no food or lively chatter. There was only the stench of rotting flesh and blood. Red blood, bright upon the white snow. Blood of countless men and women.

Wolfram was no longer afraid. He walked with his head high. The undead soldiers, reanimated to become the new pieces of Yuuri's chessboard, his pawns, knights, and bishops, none of them questioned Wolfram's presence. On the contrary, they stepped from his path, bowing deeply as their severed bodies would allow. Here was the final chess piece. The queen.

The king greeted his queen in front of his tent. His red eyes met with Wolfram's mismatched red and green. Wolfram could see the hunger in them. Perhaps more terrifying, he could see the hunger reflected in them. Black hair cascaded down Yuuri's back and shoulders. His face, though handsome, had become even more haunting. His maryoku crashed over Wolfram in powerful waves and the blonde was unable to deny his attraction.

An exchange of words was unnecessary. Yuuri all but grabbed him, hauled him inside the tent, and began to ravish him on the floor.

"Time has been good to you. You're more beautiful than ever, Wolfram." The blonde wished he could say the same of Yuuri. True, his body was young and fit, but his skin, ravaged by the ugly curse, reminded Wolfram of the corruption his mind had suffered.

And Wolfram would soon be the same way.

Yuuri wasted little time getting them both out of their clothes. There was nothing to be ashamed of anymore. If anything, Yuuri wore his curse proudly now. Wolfram was hesitant as Yuuri's lips latched on to the soft flesh of his neck and worked their way down. Yuuri pulled Wolfram onto his lap, where the blonde could feel his throbbing hardness. Hands ran greedily down his sides and firm buttocks. Wolfram sighed contently, closing his eyes and letting his body take over. His cock stood hard against Yuuri's stomach and he found himself squirming fitfully in his husband's embrace.

_Give in_, spoke Yuuri's voice inside his head.

"With this infinite power and with you at my side, the world is ours, Wolfram." He pressed their bodies together, moving his hips in such a way that Wolfram was helpless to follow along. "Join me," he breathed.

_Surrender..._

Fingers teased Wolfram's entrance, causing his body to arch and a tinge of pink to enter his cheeks. He was completely aroused by the other man. It could no longer be denied. He would do everything it took to be with Yuuri. Even if it meant destroying the world. He had already proved it, hadn't he?

Yuuri had seen the direction of his thoughts. He paused his ministrations.

"You could have let then kill you. Why didn't you?"

"If a man kills for love, he shall have no regrets. If a man dies for love, he dies a fool," Wolfram recited quietly, "A man, wiser than I once thought, spoke these last words to me. All my life I believed that dying for love was the most heroic of all deaths. It wasn't until very recently that I realized," his eyes found Yuuri's, "that if I was dead, quite simply, I wouldn't be able to love you anymore. Love should give people a reason to live, not to die."

"Then, if we are to die tomorrow, what shall we die in the name of?" Yuuri asked cryptically. Wolfram thought for a moment. Indeed, what was more important than love?"

"Men may decide to die for their country, or perhaps their god. But we shall die for the same reason that every man, unknowingly, dies."

"And what reason is that?"

"For there to be a future," said Wolfram as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He was through talking. How could they talk while holding their weeping cocks? Wolfram took charge, positioning himself atop Yuuri and slowly impaling himself, taking every inch into his body. He relaxed around Yuuri, enjoying the sensation of Yuuri's length inside him. He let out a soft moan. Beneath him, Yuuri panted harshly, forcing himself to keep still.

Wolfram began a light, rocking motion, taunting Yuuri with his gorgeous ass. His thighs tightened on either side of Yuuri, as tense as the rest of his body. So beautiful and so asking to be taken and sullied.

Yuuri could wait no longer. He snapped his hips up, his body curling around Wolfram's as the blonde clenched him tightly. Wolfram gasped sharply. His hands found Yuuri's chest as he relinquished control once again. The rough, unlubricated sex began far from comfortable, but passion took over and soon Wolfram was a hot, trembling mess in Yuuri's arms.

Wolfram gripped Yuuri fiercely, gasping and moaning incoherent words along with his king's name as the man fucked him. Yuuri decided he liked to see Wolfram underneath him and forced him onto his back. Wolfram adjusted to the new position easily, opening his legs and lifting his hips so that Yuuri would hit the right spot.

Wolfram found himself sobbing like a virgin, riding the insurmountable pleasure. He begged Yuuri to send him over the edge. Yuuri took a moment to dry his lover's tears, stilling his body, and stroking Wolfram's golden curls in a comforting manner. His uncertain face tried to convey the message that everything was going to be ok.

"Will you follow me into the inferno?" Yuuri wondered.

"'till death do us part," was the whispered reply.

Sometime during the night, they lost themselves.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

The first rays of sunlight peaked over the hills, giving light and warmth to the frostbitten land. The day had not yet begun and all was silent over the human city. The streets were empty. Doors and windows were boarded up.

At the gate, hundreds of men on horses stood patiently, gripping swords in their frozen hands. In front of them were spearmen, their shields up and their weapons ready. Behind them, atop the wall, were archers, poison arrows notched and waiting to fire on the first creature or man to appear with the sun on the horizon.

Leading them, was one boy. He sat alone in the snow, in the same position that he had been in for hours. No war helm sat upon his head of fair hair, no chest plate on his thin shoulders, no bracers on his arms or legs. Only a golden sword lay across his lap.

Murata dismounted his horse and walked over to the boy, laying a hand on his shoulder. When he spoke, it was with a soft tone, knowing it was to the boy and not to the king he was speaking.

"Are you scared?"

The boy shrugged him off. What must be going through his head at the moment? Was he conflicted about fighting two people who he cared about? Was he sad for the lives that were about to be lost? Was he angry with Murata for setting it all up?

"Shinou, why did you let Wolfram go?" Murata asked, "You knew it was only going to make this harder."

The boy sighed and closed his eyes.

"Whenever I would see..." he paused for a second, unsure, "...King Yuuri, he always looked...sad. And there was nothing I could do about it. Uncle Conrad and Uncle Gwendal would always tell me stories of how he used to smile. When I saw my father for the first time, my real father, I noticed the same sadness."

The boy stood up, his sharp, blue eyes meeting Murata's. "I don't know what will happen today. All I know is that I wanted them to be happy...if only one more time. I..." the boy choked back a sob and his voice morphed into the deep, sultry tones of the original king, "...simply wanted to reunite two lovers before their untimely end."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A/N: Calm down no one's dead yet. Except Jenus. He served his purpose.

Unlike Yuuri's "maoh mode" (which is actually now his permanent mode in this fic) Shinou's maoh mode just kinda comes and goes as it pleases.

The next chapter will be the last in this story, but like I said, there _will _be a sequel. The next story is called "The Other Bielefeld Boy" (yes just like "The Other Boleyn Girl") I'll put more details up next chap cause I dont wanna spoil the ending of this fic.

Anyway. It is unlikely that all of my plot holes will get covered in the next chapter so if something is bothering you or you catch a big mistake let me know and i'll explain it or fix it best I can unless it is something that will be carried over to the sequel.

Thanks for sticking with me,

showmaster64x


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